


Mirror Image

by klutzy34



Series: The Mirror Verse [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF Danny, Evil Danny, Evil Steve, M/M, Magic, Mirror Universe, Whump, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzy34/pseuds/klutzy34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Danny wanted to do was reassure himself that he was still a damn good detective. Instead he ended up in a world where everything is upside down. Now it's up to him to set things right and make sure he still has a job and family to go home to.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, an evil version is loose on his home turf and biding his time until he can find a way to take Five-0 down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Danny

For someone who most likely sat in a bush or trees for days, waiting for the enemy to appear, Danny figured out that Steve had a remarkably low tolerance for silence when it came to the people in his life.

He was willing to blame himself for part of that. People decided that because Danny was sometimes loud and angry that he was always loud and angry. The reality of it was that yes, he sometimes felt the need to express his opinion above the average decibel level and yes, he occasionally came off angry, but given how the world seemed to kick him to the dirt and then leave him behind, he felt he’d earned the right to it once in a while. He was also quiet, carefully guarded, and once people characterized him as loud and angry, they didn’t poke at the painful and troubled that Danny pushed away until it could bounce around his brain while he stared blankly at a wall or ceiling while he should have been sleeping.

Of course, he was far from perfect and there were days he fell off his game, like sitting beside Steve in the darkness of the Camaro, watching the apartment building of a twenty something male accused of kidnapping his ex-girlfriend. No activity within the first three hours, Danny’s mind began to wander and stayed that way until he realized he was being stared at by one reservist Navy SEAL, mostly in the shadows, body turned towards him as he seemed to appraise the target while he sipped from a takeout cup of coffee. Where had he gotten that, when had he gotten that, why didn’t h-

Oh. Danny’s acute sixth sense for caffeine kicked back into gear and he found another cup sitting in the holder between them, steam slowly rising. All right, he hadn’t been oblivious to things for that long.

Scooping up the cup and taking a sip of a passable gas station Kona blend, he lifted a finger off the cup to point at the building. “Maybe he was tipped off. The landlord warned him we were coming.”

Steve shook his head but he continued with that unnerving look focused on Danny. “He owes two months rent. If he skips out, she might very well chase him to the ends of the earth for it.” He took another measured sip. “What’s bothering you? You’re never this quiet unless something’s wrong.” A faint concerned frown settled in. “Is it something with Grace? Is she still acting out? Is Charlie okay?”

It never failed to warm his heart how much Steve cared for his kids, even the one he’d only just discovered was his. It didn’t take long for him to find an opportunity to wiggle into the uncle role again, appearing at the hospital the day after surgery to ceremoniously plop a firefighter’s hat on Charlie’s head. For the bravery he showed, he said. Thankfully, he’d been too distracted by the little boy to notice the accidental slip of Williams Moony Eyes before Danny realized he was making that face again and quickly reined it in. Pining after your very straight, very not interested partner was a bitch, but he could handle it. The happiness of those he cared about came first and foremost always. 

“No, they’re both fine. I mean, as fine as they can be with the upheaval in their life.” And there was a fair bit of that going on. Thankfully, after Halloween, he’d gotten time to talk with Grace and made sure to assure her that no matter what, he would always be there for her and that wouldn’t change just because the situation with Charlie had. They would always have the special little jokes that they’d accumulated over the years and he would have those with Charlie too, but Grace’s would always be hers and hers alone. It wouldn’t solve everything but he hoped it was a step in the right direction.

“So what is it?” When settled on a task, Steve was absolutely relentless and Danny found himself wishing their suspect would appear out of the shadows and save him. As the minutes ticked by and the silence began to stretch, he realized that the universe once again was ignoring his pleas.

“A few partner therapy sessions does not a therapist make, Steven,” he muttered, hoping Steve would take that as a cue to back off. Instead, there was another thoughtful sip of coffee, another measured beat in which that focus was still on him. Danny began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, lasting only a minute longer before he threw up his free hand in exasperation. “Fine! You remember the conversation we had during the first case, when you were asking me about Grace while we sat out on your beach?”

Steve nodded slowly. “That you want to do what you’re good at and be reminded that you’re good at what you do.” A sharp memory, that one. It only further proved that every time he “forgot” his wallet, it was no accident. 

“Yeah.” Danny’s voice became soft as he studied the top of his cup, picking idly at the plastic tab. “Lately I’ve been wondering if I am anymore. I mean, if I’m really contributing more than the obvious statement once in a while and the paperwork pile that keeps our criminals booked and the governor happy.” He heard a quiet intake of breath, as if Steve was getting ready to say something, but shook his head. “I could be wrong, all right? It’s just...Kono isn’t a rookie anymore. She doesn’t need me to show her the ropes, hasn’t for a while. Chin and Lou, they’re old hat at this and pretty sharp too. You’re the task force leader, the one all eyes are on. Me? I’m either “that haole” or McGarrett’s partner. I just don’t feel like I’m contributing anymore, that I’m not doing what I worked so hard to do anymore.” And the more he said, the more he wished he could tell Steve to forget about it because it sounded like the mutterings of an attention-seeking child. Pay attention to me! 

“Danny, you are a - “

Danny waved his hand in a cut off motion. “Forget about it. I’m just having a pitying moment. Maybe there’s something in the air. A pineapple nearby. They make me sad just by proximity.”

Steve remained silent for another beat, before slowly venturing, “you feel sad?”

He sighed, about to insist that he forget about it, when he saw movement by the building’s fire exit, a code violation waiting to happen with a defunct alarm, wedged open. Danny tapped Steve’s arm and motioned for him to look. In sync, they slid their cups into the holders as the small bit of light from the hallway illuminated the face of one Joseph Randall, alleged kidnapper. Maybe not so alleged now that he was carrying a massive sack, suspiciously human shaped, over one shoulder. 

Steve managed to get the door before it closed entirely and the two proceeded up the dimly lit stairs, guns drawn, sweeping their surroundings for stray neighbors or pets that might get in the way. Once at the door, Steve motioned that he would kick. Danny readied himself and the moment the door burst open, he went through.

The apartment was dark in more ways than one. Barely any light and the motif screamed gothic, much like the loud screams emanating from the direction of one of the rooms. He swept towards it, gently pushing the door open and sliding through, on alert for any attacks.

The furniture had been pushed to the walls and the hardwood floor and every available surface littered with candles. Janie Henderson lay on the floor, arms and wrists bound behind her, eyes closed but chest rising and falling. She was still alive. Good. That was good. Surrounding her, the candles were laid out in a specific pattern, symbols drawn out in chalk, and right behind her, a mirror bearing the same symbols written down each side in what he assumed to be marker.

As he stepped forward to check on Janie, something drove into his back and their momentum carried them into the mirror. Danny felt his forehead impact against the glass, felt it spiderweb against the side of his face. Pain exploded in his skull and he lifted a hand, fingers coming away wet and sticky. Shit. Dizzy, he reached out to grab the frame and slid down to the ground, the room heaving under him and growing dimmer.

Faintly, he heard Steve’s voice yelling something over the loud music, crashes and angry shouts. A slurred warning, way too late, tumbled from his lips and he sagged back against the mirror, complete darkness and silence taking over.

\----------------

“Wake up, you bloody bastard!” 

Something wet hit Danny’s face, the smell of a high proof liquor following immediately after. He jerked back, nearly toppling the entire seat over and accidentally slamming his knee into the underside of the desk in front of him. Heart pounding on his chest, he blinked a few times before he focused in on the very irate British woman standing before him, hands settled firmly on her hips. If looks could kill, he would have been a pile of ashes. “Rach?”

Her finger nearly poked his eye out when it was thrust in his face. “Do not ‘Rach' me, Daniel. It is because of you that I have to take a very heartbroken young woman jewelry shopping tomorrow. Was it really that hard for you to slip away for one moment to come to her recital? Just to see her dance, a few brief moments?” Rachel demanded. “If you keep making these promises to Grace and breaking them, you are going to lose her. And this time, I will do nothing to help you.” Despite the angry bearing of her stance, there was disappointment and sadness in her eyes. Disappointment and sadness he felt like he deserved, if only he could remember why.

“Rachel, I...” Have no idea what is going on. There was a throbbing on the side of his head but as he touched the spot, he felt nothing out of the ordinary. It was only then that he realized the throbbing lined up to a similar beat outside the door. The door of an office.

There was a couch pushed against the wall, several bookcases as well, empty. A laptop sat on the desk by his elbow, screen dark. Nearby, a half empty decanter and a fully empty glass, presumably the one that once held his wake up call. Danny groaned and ran his hands over his face. “I’m not even sure what’s happening right now,” he said, dropping his hands to the desk to look up at her with pleading eyes. As he shifted, his left arm hit something nestled against his ribs and he glanced over to see his H&K P30 nestled close in a shoulder holster. He hadn’t worn one in years.

“That does seem to be your typical excuse these days,” Rachel stared softly, arms crossed tightly, but in a way that made her appear vulnerable, not angry. “You asked me once what was so appealing about Stan, that he was just as much in it as is? The difference is, Daniel, that at least he still cares.” She turned away from him, striding towards the door with her shoulders squared, head up.

Danny shot out of the chair, sending it spinning as he nearly climbed over the desk in an attempt to catch up with her. “Rachel, hold up a mom-” 

As she pulled the door opened, Steve paused mid-knock, glancing from the angry woman in front of him to Danny standing a few steps behind. Rachel turned to look back at Danny. “Your little friend is here to play,” she told him coldly before shouldering her way past and marching into the hall. Steve shut the door behind her with a kick of his foot, once again muffling the techno beat that threatened to make Danny’s throbbing head burst open.

“Something really strange is going on,” Danny stated, fingertips pressing into his temples and rubbing. “I have no idea what’s happening.”

Steve sauntered towards him, thumbs hooked on the pockets of his black cargos and wearing, Danny did not fail to notice, a t-shirt that nicely emphasized his toned physical attributes. “You never do when Rachel gets involved. There’s only one solution I can see of to clear your head.”

Danny snorted softly. “And what exactly would you know ab - “

The words died on the very lips that Steve suddenly pressed his against as he pinned Danny to the wall.


	2. Williams

The search bar on Google turned out to be the gateway to Hell. Williams always thought that would turn out to be Bing.

He’d woken up sprawled on a hospital bed in a moderately busy ER, nurses and doctors hustling past the curtains enough to make them away lightly, as well as the occasional camo-wearing military personnel. Strange, but not entirely unexpected. As McGarrett often pointed out with a roll of the eyes, his mouth tended to make people want to inflict pain in him. He’d just always considered it a good sign of hitting something nice and painful. This time it resulted in a blow to the head, covered with gauze, and if his face twitched into the right expression, he could feel the pull of a few stitches and the dried blood in the hair along the temple. Okay, someone got a good whack in.

He figured that would explain how he’d ended up in the hospital without memory of the who or what he’d done to end up there, most likely slung over McGarrett’s shoulder while the mercenary bitched about how he should keep his mouth shut once in a while. Pity he wasn’t awake for that because he could have reminded him what the perks were of Williams using his mouth.

It all seemed normal - if not slightly out of place - until he retrieved his belongings off the tray beside the bed and found a nice, shiny badge among them, declaring the owner a member of the elite Five-0 task force of the state of Hawaii. Well, that was utter bullshit. Victor Hesse knew his face and background too well to let him exist in his - or any of his team’s proximity - without a pair of cuffs slapped on. So Williams did what all smart mob bosses did and brought up the browser to do a little checking.

It was like a fucking horror movie except there were no idiots to use as bait for the chainsaw wielding psychopath. His face appeared in a few photos with the title of “detective”. Williams’ stomach lurched at the thought of fighting the good fight and wearing the badge, enough to make him retrieve the unused bedpan off the tray. His head was throbbing even worse now and a distracted rub at his temple earned a hiss of pain and a curse streak that might have even made his mother blush. 

It only got worse. One Lieutenant Commander Steve J. McGarrett, not dishonorably discharged for being a sick and twisted individual and leading the task force of misfits. Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly, not the leader of the island’s premiere gambling and gun running operations and a restored cop with a cleared good name. And Kono, well, still as fiery as ever but her roundhouse kick downed men in the name of good. 

Article after article praising the task force for their good deeds. An editorial or two questioning their methods (which allowed Williams to quit groaning for the moment and take much needed comfort in even that little bit) and one outlining the arrest and subsequent acquittal of Steve after the governor’s murder. That was bullshit. McGarrett had murdered the governor after she’d threatened to expose them for the theft of money from the evidence locker. Made a mess out of it too, the trigger happy bastard.

Turning the phone off wasn’t enough for him. When the last straw finally broke, watching a YouTube clip from that damn news program, The Savannah Show, he made an expert frisbee toss that had the phone exiting the curtains and crashing somewhere off in the distance. Good riddance.

Unfortunately, it also drew attention. The dark head that popped through the curtains was all at once intimately familiar and suddenly very much a stranger. Steve looked relieved but he had that little brow crinkle that Williams assumed meant confusion. McGarrett wasn’t exactly one for most telling facial expressions, the neanderthal. “Danny? You okay?”

Williams flopped back against the incline of the bed, arms crossed over the shirt flecked with dried blood. Steven - because he refused to think of this person as his left hand man McGarrett - even looked like the Navy’s gold star boy scout. And what was that expression even? He’d seen it only once before, when McGarrett tried to make more human faces before Williams told him to stop because he was creeping him out. 

“I am just peachy keen, babe.” So the response came out a little more sarcastic than he’d intended but the way he was feeling, that was a small fucking miracle. The world turned upside down while he was out cold, with no recollection how he’d ended up that way, and he had no idea what his next move would be. Besides, no one said ‘peachy keen’ these days without sarcasm implied and he couldn’t be blamed with a head wound. Which he once again couldn’t remember receiving. “Can I get out of here now?”

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped off the bed and nearly kept going over onto the floor. Steve was there immediately at his side, grabbing his shoulders and holding him upright, which Williams had enough presence of mind to use for a testing grope. The result would have been comical if not the opposite of what he’d wanted. Steve’s eyebrows rise sky high in surprise, mouth forming a kissable little ‘o'. He was not getting a sympathy fuck tonight. “As I was about to say,” Steve fumbled on, “they’d like to keep you a little longer for observation. Even though you don’t have a concussion, it was still a pretty hard knock to the head.”

Williams rolled his eyes, waving his free hand dismissively. “I’m sure they’re eyeing my insurance deductible while they’re being so concerned for my health. Get me out of here before I try for the record of being the worst patient they’ve ever had, all right?” Without waiting for an answer, he tugged loose of Steve and swatted him on the rear for good measure. “Now run along.” 

Steve stumbled a few steps forward before he shot Danny a strange look. The sharp intake of breath almost became a question, but instead was exhaled with the shake of his head as he disappeared out onto the main floor again. Williams muttered under his breath about the impossibility of that man being a Navy SEAL (too damn soft) as he clipped the holster onto his belt and then gave the badge a considering look.

He had no idea how he’d gotten into the mess, no idea how he was going to fix it. Men like him didn’t get into their positions without being able to think up a plan on their feet but this was without precedent, which meant he needed to do a lot more investigating. 

Which, to his complete disgust, meant playing along with the cops for now. His lip curled at the thought, then softened into a smile as another followed on its tail. Once he knew what his situation was, he was in the prime position to raise a little hell. Five-0 had been a thorn in their sides back home, always infringing on Kelly’s business while the two negotiated teaming up to monopolize business on the island. This Five-0 may not have been them but they no doubt caused the same problems.

It would be just as fun to return the favor.


	3. Danny

He was too stunned to push Steve away, not when a traitorous part of his brain wanted this moment and his lips obligingly parted. Once, once he’d thought about a moment like this, in which it turned out that Steve felt the same way about him, but Danny quickly shut it down. Even if he was the only one that knew, he owed his best friend a debt of respect. Well, most days he did, when Steve wasn’t breaking every rule of the Geneva Convention to get a suspect to talk and trampling all over police procedure like the field at Woodstock. This, though, this was

Not right.

Despite the needful reaction of his body (and yes, body, he felt that stirring reaction down low) and his desire to dig his fingers into Steve’s hair and pull him closer, his gut sent warning after warning to his brain, no doubt bitching the entire way on the nervous system freeway about the traffic jam caused by surprise, pleasure and desire. It was then that Danny felt the bite of Steve’s thumbs into his biceps and while he wasn’t averse to a little pain in the bedroom, this was bordering on too much. 

There was also the small voice in the back of his mind reminding him that not but a few moments ago, he’d woken up in an unfamiliar setting with a very strong feeling of Not Right. “Steve.” The word came out partially slurred as the kiss broke long enough for them to catch a breath and then Danny was taking the names of religious deities in vain again as Steve’s lips roughly caught his again, body pressed against his. There was no caution there, no testing the waters, just straight up claiming of Danny’s mouth. 

And his neck. “Fuck me,” was about the only articulate thing he could manage as Steve’s teeth found that sensitive little area on Danny’s neck and focused in on it like the SEAL he was on a covert op, like the entire world depended on the fate of the mission. By then, his dick was really beginning to strain in his pants and he wanted nothing more than to push him off, push him down on that couch, and ravage him senseless until they were both marked and exhausted. 

Rational Danny and his cop gut continued to persist though, managing to break through the foggy hold to let the warning bells sound softly in the back of his mind, to catch his attention again. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t denied feelings, this was ‘I feel like fucking you senseless after a long day at work’. No sighs of relief, something almost...distant. “Steve.” The word was little more than a breath before he inhaled deeply and tried again, forcing a little more authority into his voice. “Steven!”

Steve’s teeth, just then taking an almost artistically critical approach to leaving a mark on Danny’s neck, went still and then he pulled back just enough to peer down at Danny. Whatever entanglement they’d been in only moments earlier, just the look in those blue eyes was enough to dump a bucket of cold water over Danny’s needs. 

Even when he’d first met Steve, still raggedly sharp around the edges from years of extreme training and missions, from the things he needed to do to survive, succeed and protect, his eyes had never looked as cold and empty as they did now. Not even in SEAL combat mode, as Danny now fondly called it. There was always something there. Fierce determination, maybe just a hint of adrenaline junkie, concentration, intelligence, calculation. Something. The eyes that met his own now didn’t hold any fond regard or low key annoyance or humor, just a distant appraisal and a distinct sense of deeply rooted apathy.

“Since when do you call me by my first name? Because if that’s your attempt at a pet name, it’s not your best,” Steve finally replied, taking advantage of the moment to further press his body against Danny’s against the wall, shifting his right hand to tangle in the hair at the nape of Danny’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. The promise of a good wall fuck was right ther -

No. No, no, no. One good look at Steve, a good look right in the eyes, reminded Danny of what put the brakes on the moment. Using the wall behind him as leverage, he pushed against Steve enough to give him the room to slip away from the other man and quickly put a few feet and the desk between them. Steve flopped against the wall, brushing a thumb against the corner of his mouth in a way Danny should not have found as enticing as he did, and ran his hand down low as if trying to soothe himself down. If only it were that easy.

“I always call you Steven when you do something so out in left field that you put me several steps behind figuring out what is going on in that strange, very disjointed little head of yours. Now that you’ve got two of us sufficiently hot and bothered without absolutely no preamble, I am surprised by this turn of events, but not put off by them,” he said, holding up his hands. It was immensely important that he put that out there, an understanding that the affection was not unwanted. “However, when you attack like I’m a high priority mark on a highly classified mission with no chance of escape, you can imagine that my brain is only firing on one cylinder and needs a moment to process what the hell just happened.” 

The response he got was highly unSteve as the SEAL shot him a look of annoyance (which did not resemble the one Danny was intimately acquainted with, as Steve did faces and Danny catalogued them to best interpret the situations) and slumped over to the couch, throwing his tall, athletic body down along the length of it, one leg dangling off the side and an arm thrown behind his head. “As sexy as it is when you speak my language, this whole sudden desire to talk about it is boring. If this is your idea of changing things up a bit?” He pointed his thumb downward. 

Danny’s jaw dropped open. “Excuse me? You’re the one who came in here and just shoved me against the wall like you wanted to take the thing down with my body! You gave me absolutely no warning, no chance of what we were about to do and you have a problem with my wanting to know what we’re getting into before we do something that could possibly ruin our partnership, our friendship?” he demanded, hand slicing through the air in agitation, voice rising to rival the low bass thumb through the walls. “I just woke up with no recollection of how I ended up here, my ex helpfully doused me in high proof cologne for missing my daughter’s recital when I am absolutely, entirely, without a doubt sure that Grace is involved in no activity that has a recital, and now you’re trying to jump me like we’ve been humping for years!” He drew in a deep breath, primed to explode again, but deflated under Steve’s watchful gaze. It reminded him of the same one the panther had given Grace’s school group when he helped chaperone a zoo trip years ago. Waiting, studying, poising for the right moment to strike. 

“You get knocked in the head lately, D? Did your wife throw the decanter at you after the contents? You’re acting like a head case.” And whereas Steve should have usually been concerned, he returned to his bored default. “This is your office? You’re here because you’re a moron who let your ex and her new husband stay in your house and your child is a brat who is always screaming about not getting her way?” 

That stopped Danny dead. Never, never had Steve ever spoken about Gracie that way and it was one thing that Danny would never stand for. His daughter was smart, fierce, intelligent, strong and independent. He knew this as certainly as he knew the sun rose and set every day and no one, not even Steve, would ever get away with talking about her the way he just had. Danny moved around the desk, hands tightly fisted as his sides, fury on his face. “What did you just say?”

In a graceful moment, Steve swung his legs around and sat up. “Nothing you haven’t already. She may be the light of your life, but not even you are blind to the fact that you spoiled the kid so much to make up for your shitty parenting that she just expects to get anything she wants now.” He smirked, resting his ankle on his knee and clasping his hands behind his head as he leaned back. “And the kid still hates your guts. I’d watch that one once she gets ahold of her trust fund. She just might sell daddy up the river for notoriety and a book deal.”

That was it. Danny launched himself across the few feet between them, hands aimed for Steve’s neck, but the SEAL was up off the couch and taking him to the ground. He landed on his stomach, the air rushing out of his lungs with the impact, and Steve settled on top of him, his dick still half-masted from earlier and very much there against Danny’s back. “Don’t forget that you’re not my boss, Williams,” Steve snarled as he leaned down, his lips beside Danny’s ear. “I have plenty of offers that I can take if something were to happen to you.” 

Danny went absolutely still. This was not his Steve, the child he described was not his Grace. There was so much wrong about the situation that he couldn’t begin to make sense of and he knew, without a doubt, that he was only scratching the surface. He had to do something, something now, before this mess became reality (because he wasn’t ready to accept it as such yet) and he had to live with it.

Steve eased up off him and returned to sprawl on the couch, only this time his hand slid beneath the waistband of his cargos. Danny shot up from the floor, immediately heading for the desk. The suit coat came off the chair and on over the gun, followed by the banging of drawers as he looked for anything that gave him an escape from that damn office. He finally found a set of keys in the middle right hand drawer and palmed them. 

As he strode towards the door, he was well aware of Steve watching him with eyelids at half-mast. “You are really not yourself tonight, Williams,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just threatened him moments earlier. “You really should let me work that out of you. This just isn’t as fun.” 

Danny shot him a look of disgust. “I’m not the only one having identity issues tonight, Steven,” he shot back before wrenching open the door, striding through, and slamming it shut behind him. 

\---------------------

His night did not improve.

Clicking the key fob repeatedly led him to a striking black BMW M4, a 2016 according to the insurance card tucked in the glove compartment, registered in his name. There was no joy in taking the vehicle out of the parking lot though, nor in the purr of the engine underneath the hood, not even putting it through its paces as he wound his way through the city towards South Orange and the rougher neighborhood he’d grown up in.

Which, according to the woman who answered the door when he knocked, he never had. She quickly shot him a fearful look from behind the bars covering the door, though because of the neighborhood or him, he couldn’t tell, and slammed the door shut, the sound of locks clicking from the other side. Cursing under his breath, Danny marched down off the steps and across the yard to his car. Once settled inside, he located his wallet in his pocket and drew out the driver’s license.

The DMV picture he was used to was nothing special. That day, he’d waited in line for hours and by the time he’d stepped in front of the camera, the look on his face was one that said he would rather receive a root canal without novocaine than spend anymore time there. It wasn’t his best shot by far, but not terrible either. The picture that looked up at him was vastly different, from the same unaffected, cold look in his eyes that he’d seen in Steve’s to the small smirk aimed at the camera, like he knew something and it was giving him great pleasure to keep it from the world. 

Danny quickly stuffed it back into the wallet and tossed it into the passenger's seat. The address was one for a higher end neighborhood just outside of Newark, places that no blue collar man or woman would ever be able to afford in their lifetime. 

“Okay,” he murmured, thumbs tapping on the steering wheel as he navigated the thankfully light traffic, late night roads. “What do I have? I have Steve telling me that I am not his boss, which implies that he is not mine in any official capacity. He also implied that he has other offers, offers plural, which tells me that he is not military.” He hesitated a beat, head nodding forward slightly. “I think. Rachel and Stan are together and apparently living in my house, which is far too nice for my blood, and my daughter...” His heart clenched painfully. “My daughter has been accused of being spoiled beyond hope. I pray that is not the case but that is the evidence I have to work with right now,” he explained to the car. Such a captive audience. “I own a nightclub. A very upscale one for the college and young professional crowd from the brief glimpse I got.” He lifted a fist, chewing on his lip, before lightly bringing it down onto the steering wheel. “Which is not something that I would need someone like Steve implied he was for.” He chewed at his lip again. “Which means something hinky is going on. We’re doing something hinky.”

He spent the rest of the drive in silence, sorting out what little he knew onto mental evidence boards, wishing he had something more physical to work it out on. By the time he reached the house that came just short of ‘mansion’, he was no closer to figuring out what that hinky might be. “I think I certainly figured out how Rachel and Step Stan live with me and I haven’t strangled either one yet,” he muttered as he got out of the car, taking in the two story architectural monster reaching out darkly above him. Sorting through the keys, he found the one to the front door and let himself in. 

The foyer was bathed in the darkness and he didn’t dare flip the switch and alert any of the occupants to his presence. Instead, he felt his way around carefully, finally finding a doorknob and smoothly turning it, pleased when the door opened only with a soft click. Once he was somewhat assured that it was empty, he flipped the switch just inside the door.

Soft light bathed the office, a lamp on the desk providing most of the light. Closing the door silently behind him, Danny crept over to the desk and settled into the chair, eagerly scooping up piles of papers to sort through. Most of them were invoices, orders, general management and businessowner papers that anyone with a club ownership would find on their desk. Pushing them aside, he picked up the small netbook and opened it. 

Nothing revealing about the wallpaper, a stock shot that came standard on most. The document files were letters, articles, once again all about the club. Danny scanned through with growing annoyance, stopping on one picture in particular. His eyes grew wide and he muttered a few unflattering remarks about the man he resembled in the picture, but was obviously not, as he would have remembered posing with one Jon Bon Jovi at a charity event. 

Once he managed to pull himself away from the picture, he brought up the browser, fingers poised over the keyboard. A quick check revealed the browsing history wiped clean and he was not tech savvy enough to bring it all back, which left creating a little history of his own. His fingers tapped the keys lightly in thought before he finally clicked away and hit Enter.

The search of his name and New Jersey brought up more hits than he ever expected to have total between his job in Newark and Hawaii. 

_-search was finally called off today by Edward Williams’ oldest son, Daniel, who expressed his sincere gratitude to the searchers for their time and effort. Williams disappeared three months ago, along with three other men, on a hunting trip. While police could find no evidence of foul play, given the history of the Williams family in New Jersey, they are not entirely ruling it out yet. Daniel was unavailable for comment._

He was only slightly aware that his fingers had begun to shake as Danny backed out of the article and hit the link for another. There were a few that touted the opening and the success of the club, the charity work it was doing behind the scenes, but they were few and far between in the mess of articles about the mob family that dominated the East Coast and the suspected heir that rose to take the throne after the sudden disappearance of his father. Danny’s stomach lurched and he pressed his fist to his mouth, slamming the netbook shut with the other hand. Mob. 

What had gone so sideways that, by all accounts, he’d woken up as a mob boss with his best friend as, he could only assume given the evidence, his hitter?


	4. Williams

Thanks to the durable box surrounding the phone, it survived Williams’ toss of disgust at the hospital to annoy him another day. Bright and early, too damn early for someone who spent most of the night up conducting business, the alarm chirped at him from the bedside table and it took several swipes to locate it and shut it up. He lay there with his face buried in the pillow for a good three minutes before softly swearing and climbing out of bed. 

The white gauze stood out on his temple and bruising had settled in underneath the eye, neither of which was a concern to him. As a hands on member of the crime family pack, he’d taken his fair share of injuries well before he’d ascended to alpha status. This was nothing. 

The rest of the morning routine didn’t even take much to think about, not until he reached the closet anyway. Tugging a shirt off the hanger, he stared at the tag, lip curling in disgust. “No wonder law enforcement is pissy all the time. They don’t pay you enough for decent clothing,” he muttered, tossing the shirt back into the closet without any care to putting it back on the hanger. Several more shirts failed inspection before he found one tucked away that would pass, most likely one of the shirts the good detective wore on a special occasion. 

Pants, wallet, gun, badge, keys. All the tools needed to be a respectable member of society for the day. There was even a pair of aviators buried in the mess on top of the dresser that just seemed to complete the ensemble. He paused in front of the full length mirror, giving his appearance a critical eye and a snort. “McGarrett might actually giggle for the first time in his stoic life at this.” 

Planting his feet, he pointed a finger gun at the mirror. “Freeze. You have the right to remain an embarrassment to the criminal community. Anything you say or do will be contemptuously thrown back in your face. You have the right to...something. Damned if I ever had to hear that spee - “ A movement behind him caught his eye in the mirror and he whirled around to see Steve hovering in the doorway, failing miserably at containing the grin on his handsome face. Son of a bitch. Williams let the sunglasses slide down his nose so he could peer over them at the Five-0’s leader challengingly, arms crossing over his chest. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t one to get embarrassed, instead turning it on the interloper to make them realize they were in the wrong.

Steve cleared his throat, trying and failing to school his features back to something less amused as he thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “Joseph Randall wants to talk to us this morning, so I thought I’d leave my truck in your driveway and just go from here. I knocked twice.” As if that made it better. Williams shot the last person who intruded without permission and sunk the body in the harbor himself. Fortunately for Steve, he was far too valuable for an unscheduled trip to the Pacific Ocean. 

“Then let’s go.” He had no idea who the hell Joseph Randall was or his importance, but he had no doubt he could get this much chattier version of McGarrett to fill him in. In comparison, the man that fell in behind him was a ray of sunshine compared to his, making him long for his angry nuclear blast of an ex-military hitter all the more. 

The car was a nice little piece, the black Camaro shining in the Hawaiian sun where it sat parked in the driveway. It wouldn’t have been his first choice but it was a damn sight better than the cheapness displayed in the closet, he’d give the detective that. Williams unlocked the door and started to climb in when he realized Steve was hovering by the driver’s side door as well, looking perplexed. “What?”

Steve pointed to the front seat. “Is there a reason I’m not driving today?” Williams brow furrowed and he shot a pointed look at the (really, Steven?) blue Silverado parked nearby, pointing at it.

“I was under the impression that the truck belonged to you, so that would mean this car is mine and it’s my ass that belongs in the driver’s seat,” he replied, not quite feeling up to arguing what seemed to be simple logic. He didn’t think he would have to explain to an officer of the law that ownership meant he couldn’t just take what he wanted - or maybe he did, now that he remembered some of Newark’s finest who were all too happy to try and extort him when backs were turned. 

“But I - “

“Don’t. Drive. My. Car. Get in the passenger’s side seat, McGarrett, or drive yourself. Those are your only two choices here.” He rest his crossed arms on the top of the door. “I’m sure whatshisface won’t mind waiting while you check your control freak tendencies at the door in observation of the laws of ownership.” 

Now Steve crossed his arms over his chest, leveling Williams with a look that said he wanted to argue, but didn’t know where to start. There was something else in that look too that he couldn’t put his finger on and didn’t bother noting to suss out. The least of his concerns was this soft group and their feelings. Sliding into the car, he pulled on his seatbelt and turned the car on, flicking up the volume on the radio. After a beat of hesitation, Steve finally made his way around to the passenger’s seat and climbed in, struggling to push the seat back (which hit Williams’ funny bone in all the right ways) before settling in with his arms crossed and directing a silent glare out the windshield.

He stayed that way for the duration of the drive, though Williams had the distinct feeling of being watched.

\---------------

Randall looked like he had better days. The kid was huddled as close to the table as he could get, shoulders hunched up like the air conditioner was freezing him out, stringy brown hair hanging around his face. As the door buzzed open, terrified blue eyes latched onto them and followed them all the way as they settled in on the opposite side of the table. His hands fidgeted with the cuffs around his wrists. He reminded Williams of the other clientele that came to his club, the ones looking for Russians approved to deal in his territory. Twitchy, nervous, jonesing. Always willing to sell out their best friend and their mother for the next fix. 

“All right, Joseph. Duke told me you wanted to talk to us and only us. We’re here,” Steve said, spreading his hands out in an invitation for the kid to start talking. “What’s going on?” Despite the fact that the kid apparently kidnapped his girlfriend and they’d found him performing some kind of ritual on her, which Williams found very interesting for reasons he wasn’t sure of yet, there was a softness to Steve’s expression that made him want to smack the man upside the head. What happened to that edge?

“I - “ Randall started, then threw himself back in his chair with an expulsion of breath. “This is stupid. You’re not gonna believe me but I gotta try, all right?” He raised his head sharply enough to toss the hair out of his face, fixing them with a look. “Janie. You gotta keep an eye on her because she’s not right. She’s not the one that’s supposed to be here. She’s the evil reflection, okay? I can’t prove it right now but if you let her stay free, someone’s going to get hurt.” 

It was silent enough in the room to hear a pin drop for several seconds before Williams burst out laughing, earning startled looks from Randall and Steve. “Really? That’s your defense here? I was trying to do witchcraft to save the world from my girlfriend’s evil twin? If you weren’t such a putz and acted it out in real life, you could have made a few million writing that down and selling it,” he stated, leaning back in his seat and casually waving a hand. “Look, next time you should probably consult with your public defender first before you start making up stories and wasting our t - “

“Danny.” Steve’s voice was sharp, commanding, the first time Williams felt this man beside him shared anything more than looks with the man he knew. He calmly regarded him, then spread his hands out and shrugged as if to say ‘oops’. Maybe that had been a little over the top but really, his only experience in acting came from playing the part of a community concerned philanthropist. The expression on Steve’s face promised that they were going to have a talk about it later. “Randall, what do you mean by evil reflection?” 

Randall, who had been sitting slumped in his chair during the stare down, glared at Steve. “You don’t believe me. Why do you want to know? So you can tell the judge I’m crazy and lock me away?” 

Steve held up his hands placatingly. “Please ignore Detective Williams and the two of us just talk. By all appearances, you were a good kid up until this happened, Joseph. I’m just trying to understand.” It was a very near thing that Williams held back an eye roll and once both men were looking at each other, he mouthed ‘crazy’ at the guard. The big man stared back at him, bored out of his mind. 

“We messed up, okay? We were looking for stories to research for our folklore class and our friend Alice, she told us about this story they used to tell the kids in her town when they were bad. Somewhere in Appalachia, I don’t know.” Randall waved it off, the place unimportant. “The Mirror People. That when you look at your reflection in the mirror, the person staring back is the opposite of you. So we decided to use that for our project.”

Williams could feel the amused smirk disappear and the unsettled feeling that followed made him sit up a little straighter. “Yeah and? What’d you do, Hocus Pocus your girlfriend in the name of an A?” The heel of Steve’s boot came down hard on his foot in lieu of a look this time and he didn’t bother to contain the hiss of pain or the nasty look shot his way. This Steve McGarrett was quickly making his way up Williams’ list of issues to take care of. 

“No! I mean, it’s not like we meant to!” Randall’s eyes went wide and he lunged forward again, eager to explain. “Alice found this old document from her library back home, okay? So we decided to try it out, for research. Only something happened and now Janie is her evil reflection. She was the sweetest, kindest person, then after that night? Violent, angry, mean.” His voice grew soft and he stared down at his hands again. 

“It’s called PMS, kid.” Steve’s hand wrapped around Williams’ bicep and squeezed hard, pulling him up from his seat roughly. Apparently he hadn’t appreciated that nugget of wisdom either. 

“Randall, if you can think of anything else to tell us, let Duke know and I’ll come back to talk to you.” Steve was practically vibrating in anger and Williams felt a little thrill rush down his spine, grinning and throwing Randall a little wave as he was pulled out of the room.

Once they were in the hallway, Steve let him go and whirled around to face him. “What the hell was that in there?” he demanded, thrusting a finger at the door for emphasis. Williams crossed his arms and shrugged, expression nonplussed. Really, if Steve thought that was going to intimidate him into answering, the detective was a real wuss. 

“Someone needed to not cuddle his delusions. You’re welcome. I need some coffee.” There was an ache beginning to build just above his eyes that he recognized as the lack of caffeine kicking in. As someone who downed more cups a day then he had fingers, it was imperative that he found the nearest coffee shop or his behavior was about to insult good little Steven even more. 

“What’s going on with you, Danny? You’ve been acting strange since last night,” Steve demanded, following after him.

“Hit in the head, brains rattled. It’s all good.” When in doubt, blame the brain injury. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been tossed into bizzaro land and he hadn’t found his feet with playing along yet. Well, playing along until he could figure out how to make them all suffer and find a reason for being again, one that didn’t involve badges and handcuffs. At least not the latter in the practical. 

“It’s - “ Steve couldn’t even explain it. He held up his hands, palms up, spread them out, then dropped them down to his side in defeat. Yes, something wasn’t quite right about him, so he’d have to work on that, at least enough to keep Steve off his back. Instead of acknowledging him or the conversation, Williams kept walking. Steve could either catch up or be left behind. It wasn’t his problem.

What he didn’t catch was the look Steve shot back towards the room they’d just left, brow furrowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Author's notes have never been a forte of mine but I'd like to thank you for reading this far!


	5. Danny

Sherlock Holmes once said that once all possibilities were eliminated, whatever remained had to be the truth. Well, Danny was respectfully disagreeing with the _very fictional_ detective on this one because now that he’d eliminated most of the possibilities he was hoping for, the one remaining was beyond improbable and beyond ridiculous.

“This cannot be magic,” he muttered as he paced the area in front of the desk, hands running through his blond hair and tugging tightly as if the little bursts of pain would knock him out of this nightmare he was trapped in. “I understand that we stumbled into a ritual gone incredibly wrong but I say ‘magic’ with heavy quotation marks as witchcraft is not a thing. Wiccans love and worship the earth and send their good vibes out, satanists hail their demonic masters, but people, people do not end up transported to the worst scenario possible in their lives.” He stopped, swallowing hard as his mind replayed what he’d just said. No, there were very few of them, but there existed worst scenarios than this and they involved the deaths of people he cared about.

Not wanting to touch those thoughts, not after all the death that had been a part of his life lately, he spun back around on the ball of his foot and resumed pacing. “No, this is...I don’t know. I don’t have a logical explanation for why I am pretending to be a philanthropist nightclub owner when I’m a scumbag mobster or Steve is my right hand killer or Chin and Kono apparently run the Hawaiian criminal underground. I do not know why Wo Fat is the governor of Hawaii and the task force is run by Hesse, because that is sick. That is just sick and wrong and no one would use that as any kind of prank. Not anyone that any of us would associate with anyway.” He wasn’t entirely ready to let go of this being some kind of CIA ruse, although he couldn’t answer the most basic question of why the CIA would even bother with a setup like this. As much as he loathed the organization, the answer was clear: they wouldn’t.

He’d spent the night scouring the internet, not finding much beyond speculation. His nightclub and charity work with the undertones of mob involvement, the theories into the death of his father and a few close associates; Steve’s disappearance from the Navy after issues came to light involving unnecessary deaths of a few of his own men, but other than that, the man was a ghost. The same went for Kono because Danny couldn’t even find mention of her name, not even as a professional surfer. Chin Ho made the papers though as an untouchable in the underground activities on O’ahu and the other islands that made up the state of Hawaii. Even the Triads, Yakuza and Samoans tread carefully, at least according to the papers. 

Feeling nauseous, he’d abandoned the internet to turn the home office upside down in favor of locating something, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what. What he did find was an MBA in business from NYU, _cum laude_ , something not worth investigating further tucked in the cushions of the couch, and a flash drive hidden in the bottom of a box packed full of condoms in the lowest desk drawer. What little territory he gained there abruptly ended when he found the flash drive was heavily encrypted. 

Danny scrubbed hard at his face as he paced, a day’s worth of stubble scratching at his rough palms. “Think, Williams. That’s the only chance you have of fixing this mess, of getting back home to your people, not this...insanity.” So that meant he had to take his remaining options and investigate further, whether he wanted to believe or not. Hell, the ghost of an elderly woman haunted the apartment building he’d lived in for all of two seconds. If the fix was buried in magic and lore, he would try and keep an open mind. _Try._

Heading back around the desk, Danny pulled paper from the printer and grabbed a pen. Going in after Randall had been a blur but he managed to sketch out the details he did remember before it all went sideways. The positioning of the candles in the circle around the mirror, the placement of the woman’s unconscious form, the mirror’s position inside the circle. Then came the hard part, trying to remember what the symbols were around the edges. Instead, he made question marks. How many spells involving mirrors could there actually be?

And now he was actually taking this seriously. Wonderful. Really. As sarcastic as he felt about that, it was something other than avoiding everyone by staying locked in a room that was out of answers. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, he stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket and headed across the room, pulling open the door.

Running smack into Rachel, about to knock on the door, and Catherine Rollins.

Danny stumbled back a step to avoid Rachel knocking on his forehead instead, squinting suspiciously at the two women. The last time he’d seen Catherine, she assured him she planned on staying, then proceeded to leave suddenly, something about needing to find her own way. It was a feeling he respected, but why hadn’t she mentioned that when they spoke? None of it settled right with Danny, the least of all that it seemed to be what Steve wanted more than anything, being with her, and her leaving sent him into another streak of repressed emotion and striding past the event as if it didn’t matter. 

This Catherine seemed to know right where her place was, chin up and looking Danny squarely in the eye with an unreadable expression. He glanced at Rachel, who gave up nothing either. “Daniel, this Catherine Rollins from NCIS. She wants to talk to you in regards to a man she thinks you might have encountered. A Steven McGarrett?” The look she gave him before she turned her head towards Catherine, expression smoothly becoming questioning, told him to play along. “I told her I knew of no one by that name but she wanted to talk to you herself.”

Oh, this was not what he needed right now. Closing his eyes, Danny leaned against the doorway, rubbing the spot between his eyes where a tension headache was beginning to make an appearance. “I have a meeting that I need to get to right now - “

“It will only take a few minutes of your time, Mr. Williams,” Catherine interrupted smoothly, stepping up beside Rachel in a way that left him no room to escape. Danny hesitated, then stepped aside, waving her into the room. After she passed, Rachel spoke, keeping her voice low.

“Should I put Specter on standby in case we need legal?” she murmured, giving the woman’s back a calculating look. 

“No, I’ve got this. Just...I’ve got it. I’ll show her out after I’m done.” Shutting the door behind him, Danny returned to the desk, wearily dropping into the chair. “All right, Agent Rollins. You wanted to ask me a few questions?”

Catherine leaned forward, setting her phone on the desk, a surveillance photo of Steve on the screen. He was staring straight at the camera, phone lifted to his ear, outside on the street somewhere. “The man responsible for this picture was found dead a day later. As you can tell by that, Steven McGarrett is a very dangerous man. We’ve learned that he has spent time in this city and given the nature of your suspected activities, you seemed to be the man to ask.”

Leaning forward himself, Danny clasped his hands on the desk blotter. Despite the fact that this was not his Steve and he knew the man was as dangerous as they came, there was something about just turning him over - yet - that put Danny on edge. Making a snap judgement in the field that would come back to bite him in the ass in the long run, given that he knew next to nothing about his situation, and it was still _Steve_. That was probably going to bite him in the ass later on too. 

“Ms. Rollins, I don’t know this man from Adam, but I can assure you that suspected activities is a product of jealous competitors and that someone who would be termed as a “very dangerous man” would have no place on my staff.” The lie rolled too easy off his tongue but given that he knew next to nothing about their dealings either, how much of it was an actual lie and how much was it omission of information? And how much of it was just not trusting this - or any version - of her? 

Catherine remained quiet for a good half a minute before nodding. Pulling a card from her pocket, she set it on the desk before reclaiming her phone. “McGarrett is a rabid pitbull, Mr. Williams. He’s a former SEAL and he is extremely unpredictable. If you come into any contact with him, I would advise you let me know. Your life and the life of your family may depend on that.” There was no missing the subtle threat underneath those words and Danny bristled, but wisely held his tongue. 

“If I happen to stumble over a crazy former SEAL, believe me, you’ll be my first call after locking myself in the room with the sturdiest door,” he replied, giving her a smile that he hoped didn’t come off as fake as he felt it was. He knew this tactic. When you suspected someone of involvement, you “asked a few questions” in order to meet the person face to face, to get an accurate reading of their body language and facial expressions, then played the card of planting seeds of doubt and offering an ally. It wasn’t a favorite of his, but it was sometimes necessary. “Thank you, Agent Rollins.” He made a show of picking up her card and tucking it into his wallet. 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Williams. I know that you are a very busy man.” A hint of a professional smile touched her lips as she rose from her seat. Danny rose as well, escorting her to the front door as they casually discussed the Yankees falling short in the playoffs. Once she was out the door, he fell against it with a sigh, gently knocking the back of his head against the wood.

He had to figure this situation out and fix it soon before he became just as much a criminal as the man he was pretending to be. 

\--------------

The internet yielded one shop that he might find answers in. A face to face conversation seemed like the only route to take, so Danny made his way back to the city and located it, tucked between a coffee shop and an art supplies store. 

The shop claimed that it stocked all things necessary for the modern witch and as he stepped in, his nose was assaulted by the combination of fresh herbs and incense, causing him to sneeze. The noise alerted the shopkeeper to his presence before he had the chance to look around. Not that he even knew where to begin.

She was a tall redhead, hair swept back from her face, expression becoming carefully schooled when she saw him. It looked like he was known even in these circles. “Can I help you?” she asked, placing her hands on the counter. 

Pulling the rough sketch from his pocket, Danny placed it on the counter. “I’m looking for more information on this. It’s...” His usual explanation would be that it was for a case, but he didn’t wear a badge here. “It’s something my daughter is into and I’m a little worried.” He was certainly worried about his daughter here after what he’d heard, even if this had nothing to do with it. It made it less of a lie.

She picked up the paper, giving it more of an honest study than he thought she would. “Have you heard the story of the Mirror People?” she asked, glancing up at him. 

He’d heard it. When he or his siblings misbehaved as children and their grandmother babysat, she would tell them the story in an attempt to scare them into behaving. The Mirror People existed in a world backwards from their own, reflections of the people in the real world, only backwards themselves. Grandma Williams would always tell them that if they were bad, then their Mirror Self would be good and that they could be traded at any time for a better behaved child. At that point, Danny and his siblings would become well-behaved little angels until the story faded from mind. They also avoided mirrors for days. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

The shopkeeper smoothed the paper out and slid it towards him. “I can’t be entirely sure without doing some research since the runes are missing, but this seems to be a spell to switch the reflection in the mirror.” 

Danny swallowed hard as he stared at the hastily drawn picture. This was not helping his reasoning that there was nothing supernatural about this issue, that there would be a fix that made a logical, rational sense that he was used to. Instead, just that minimal explanation covered the last few moments he remembered before waking up in the back office of a night club. “Can you do that research? Please?” he asked, desperation entering his voice when she looked as if she would turn him down. Quickly pulling out his wallet, he set a hundred dollar bill down on the counter and pushed it towards her. “Deposit. You do this and I’ll pay your rent for the month,” he quickly added. “Please.”

That few precious seconds that she took to make up her mind seemed like an eternity to Danny, but finally she nodded and set one of her business cards upside down in front of him. “I’ll need your number to contact you.” Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly found his number on his phone, then scribbled it down.

“You are a gleaming beacon of hope for humanity, miss. A boon to those that help, a wonderful human being. Thank you,” he stated, pressing his hands together in front of him. Finally, he was on the path of something, even if it was the most outlandish answer he’d come up with. The woman didn’t seem so certain, but there was money on the table and the promise of more for something that was above board. 

His phone started to chirp in his pocket and with a final ‘thank you’ to the shopkeeper, Danny stepped outside to answer. He nearly bit his tongue when he almost answered it ‘Detective Williams’, just managing to turn the title into his name.

“Where are you?” McGarrett. Straight to the point.

“I’m downtown, grabbing something herbal for Rachel. Why?”

Just from the silence, he could see McGarrett’s face screwing up in annoyance. “Because Chin Ho Kelly is here to take a look at operations before you two shake on your alliance and you are suspiciously absent,” he muttered, voice edged with a growl. 

Danny stopped cold. It was bad enough seeing this evil version of Steve, but Chin too? No doubt that Kono wasn’t far behind either. He rubbed at his forehead again, the tension headache really starting to tap dance now. “Just...show it to him. Then we’ll meet at the house.”

“You want me to.”

“You’re my right hand man, right? Just do it and then I’ll be ready to talk,” Danny snapped back at him. Without giving him the time to answer, he ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. “Okay, I can do this. You’ve done undercover, Danny. You’re good at undercover. Just be a real dick and you’ll be fine.” He drew in a deep breath, staring at the car in front of him. Then he slumped against it, arms folding on top, forehead hitting his arms.

“I just want to go home.”


	6. Williams

He controlled the farthest reaching, toughest family on the east coast, one that even Newark’s finest didn’t want to make a name for themselves tangling with. They were happy to turn the other way, pretend he was the fine and upstanding citizen that he played for the media. Despite his size, men twice his height and weight shrunk away when he raised his voice. Danny Williams was terrifying and no one argued with him.

Except a pissy Navy SEAL.

Williams sunk down farther into the passenger seat, arms crossing over the seat belt as he launched another round of curses under his breath at the Camaro’s back end in front of them. Not only was he no longer in possession of his car, but he’d been banned to riding with the rookie while Chin Ho took the passenger seat. 

As this was his third verbal assault since getting in the Cruze to head to the crime scene, Kono snapped off the radio and gave him a sharp look. “All right, Danny. What gives with the two of you?” she demanded. 

“I,” Williams snapped, thrusting a finger in the air, “did nothing to that son of a bitch.” And he truly was a son of a bitch as Special Agent Doris McGarrett of the FBI’s Organized Crime unit was all too happy to dig into his business until she found the evidence to bring him down. Unluckily for her, Williams was smart and knew how to keep the bread crumbs swept up and the smoking gun close at hand. 

“Uh huh.” Kono rolled her eyes. “Notice that I asked what was going on between the two of you, not what you _did_. I guess that answers the question.” His contact with Kono had been limited while brokering the coast to coast deal with Chin Ho Kelly, but the impression he’d gotten was that she wasn’t dull witted muscle like the rest of the goons he employed. It was much the same tactic that Williams employed himself, keep a handful around for the heavy lifting, keep a smart, savvy one close by for the situations that required a delicate hand and quick response. “What did _you_ do?” 

Sitting up a little straighter, Williams flung his hands up. “How about nothing? The man tried to commandeer _my_ vehicle at _my_ house this morning and then when I refuse to give it up, he wants me to chauffeur him around? I do not think so.” He angrily stabbed his pointer finger upwards. “When he took his precious time after I told him to move it, that I had places to be, I left him at the courthouse. Which he easily got a ride back from, I’d like to point out. This whole silent treatment is childish and unbecoming of a man of his rank. Not to mention _he stole my car_!”

He was truly starting to dislike this version of Steve McGarrett. The sad puppy eyes, the passive aggressive theft. Though he would never admit it to the man’s face, he truly missed his McGarrett and his apathy for the world and everything in it. There was something enjoyably simple as a man who was straightforward about embracing the violence he happened to excel at. This one was desperately trying to play Joe Normal and it didn’t suit. 

“Okay then.” Kono reached over to turn the radio back up, a classic rock station which Williams found tolerable. “You two need more therapy.” 

The timely rise in volume drowned out exactly what Williams thought of that. 

\-----------

He’d seen, created plenty of dead bodies in his time, but beyond torture, the kill had always been precise, quick, clean. This crime scene was none of that and yet it had an artistic vibe to it that spoke of a serial killer who clearly enjoyed their warped perception of reality. Williams could applaud the dedication, while Steve, Chin Ho, and Kono all expressed their varying levels of disgust with the perpetrator. He wisely kept his mouth shut, hanging back as they talked. 

“You might wish to watch your step, Detective Williams.” The medical examiner grabbed his arm and pointed upwards to where the mess extended to the still blades of the ceiling fan. Kono’s face took on a shade of green while Chin stared at the floor and even Steve looked a little unsettled, hand resting over his mouth as his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling. “It would be rather unfortunate if you were to be caught in the dripping of fluids.” 

Williams shook his hand off. “Yeah, thanks.” He pointed upwards. “I saw a grill in the backyard. What do you say we get those links down and fire it up, have lunch before we get down to investigating?” he said dryly, enjoying the multiple looks of surprise and disgust. “Not a single laugh? Tough crowd.” 

“I don’t think there’s any humor in a family man being senselessly butchered, Danny,” Steve replied quietly. 

“Unless he had it coming. We dig deep enough, we’ll find a lot of dirt. Isn’t that how it goes in these cases?” Williams was an avid reader of all things nonfictional crime. In order to successfully get away with murder, he had to learn from the mistakes of others. People who got caught made great case studies, as did books on forensics and criminology. He didn’t kill indiscriminately, either leaving McGarrett and his wide array of skills to the job or taking care in planning the removal of another human being from the earth. Being a detective, he felt, was no different except they didn’t commit the crime. 

“Not always.” Chin Ho, the diplomatic one in this world, was quick to respond before another fight started between Williams and Steve. He had to wonder how often it happened if Chin had it down to a science. 

“Right. We still believe in humanity being inherently good.” Suckers. Sliding his gloves off, Williams headed for the back door. “I’m going to take a look around outside. Call me if anything interesting happens.” 

Which was right about when he saw the flash of movement in the shed across the yard. Glancing back, he saw the three with their heads together, paying attention to the massacred body at their feet, not to him. He ducked out the door, pulled his weapon from the holster, and crept across the yard. Leaning into the door, he pushed it slowly open and let his eyes adjust to the dimness. 

The door just closed behind him when she lurched out of the shadows with a broken yard statue. Williams brought the gun up. “Ah ah ah, drop it. Drop it now and we can talk.” He pointed down with the gun. “Drop it. I’m not going to arrest you, assuming you are the artist responsible for the artwork inside.”

The brunette’s nose wrinkled up as she lowered her makeshift weapon slightly. Flecks of blood across the pale green blouse and jean shorts pointed towards her being the one, but assumptions were a dangerous thing. “It’s not my best. I was interrupted before I could finish,” she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “It was a statement on the collateral damage of war.”

Williams hesitated. “Okay, yeah, let’s not take away from the appreciation by giving it depth.” Now that his eyes had adjusted and she’d moved into the thin shaft of light from window, he could see her easily. “Janie Henderson, right? You were kidnapped?”

Janie’s shoulders rolled back and she huffed in annoyance. “He’s supposed to be helping me but something went wrong and now I have to work alone. He’s so...”

“Good?” Williams supplied helpfully. “Sweet? Naseauting? Moral? Weak? Wrong?” Janie nodded, her brow furrowing as her head tilted. “Yeah, I get that. See, the people in there? Not my people. Infuriating, annoying, inept versions of my people.”

“So this isn’t right for you either,” Janie said softly, finally allowing the broken statue to drop at her feet. “It’s all wrong and I don’t know how to set it right.” 

Seeing her at ease, Williams slid the gun back into its holster. “You and me both, sister. But,” he added, a slow grin appearing, “it doesn’t mean we can’t keep having fun, right? This ain’t our world so when we get back, it’s not us that’s going to be paying for it. So if you want to scuttle over the back fence, keep on keeping on, then you do just that.” 

“Really?” Janie crossed her arms stubbornly over her stomach. “What’s in it for you?”

“Five-0’s headache.” She continued to stare at him as if waiting for an ulterior motive to appear. Finally, she shrugged.

“If that’s all you want.” 

“Trust me, it would bring a - “ Williams trailed off as he heard Kono shout his name from the back door. “You stay here until I get her back inside, then take the back fence up and over. There’s no one home right now. Uniforms have already checked.” Janie stepped back and crouched down in the shadows while he stepped out into the sunlight again. 

“Steve and Chin are heading back. You’re with me.” She glanced towards the shed, frowning. “What were you doing in there?”

“I saw movement.” Hopping up the steps, he put his hand on her back and coaxed her back inside. Kono stood firm for a moment before relenting. “It turned out to be a very antsy squirrel accidentally trapped inside. I had to take some time to make sure I didn’t piss myself when it surprised me.” 

\-----------

If Steve McGarrett survived Williams trip to the alternate version of his world, the man would be very, very lucky. He arrived back at headquarters to find that he’d already taken off - with his car. Ignoring Chin and Kono’s offers to drive him home, he’d called a cab and given them the address to Steve’s house, pulled off the records he’d hastily accessed before leaving. He didn’t plan on sticking around long enough for someone to question why he was poking around DMV. 

Throwing a few bills at the driver, he marched past the garage and the car parked beside it to storm up the stairs and pound on the door. “Steven! Get your immature ass to the door and open it!” he bellowed, swearing he’d kick it down if the other man didn’t soon. One minute. He had one minu - 

“Since when do you not let yourself in, Danny?” Steve appeared in the open door, resting heavily against the doorframe. “Or make insensitive cracks at crime scenes or demean suspects like that kid?” Williams stared at him, blinking slowly. No wonder Kono made that crack about therapy. If this was how their relationship went, no wonder they needed it. That or a good fuck.

He put a shoulder into Steve’s chest and pushed him backwards into the house. “I just want my keys, McGarrett. If you’d kindly cough them up, then I’ll be on my way.” 

The hand that slipped around his upper arm caught him off guard, but Williams was already hooking a foot behind Steve’s legs and pulling. Once the SEAL went down, he quickly settled on his chest, threading his fingers through his to pin his hands down on the wood floor.

“Danny, what are you doing?” he demanded, too surprised by the sudden disadvantage to fight him. 

“Removing that stick from your ass and possibly replacing it with something else later,” Williams muttered, bending down to nip lightly at the tanned skin on his neck. Steve tasted like ocean and he continued to nibble a path down to his collarbone, where he bit a little harder and felt him jerk. 

“I mean it, Danny. You’ve been acting strange and...” Steve’s inhaled sharply at the bite and Williams lightly sucked at it, putting a little more force into his hands as he felt Steve begin to squirm under him. “This isn’t right. Let me up.” 

Sighing, Williams lifted his head to give him a serious look. “How is this not right? You need a good fuck, I want to fuck you. So just lay back and... _oomph_.” He really should have known better than to not fully pin down a SEAL, reservist or former. The next thing he knew, he was on his back staring up at the ceiling, and Steve was scrambling up. 

“Not like this.” Steve ran his hands through his hair. “Something’s been off about you since you woke up at the hospital. Even just the look - “ He trailed off, nose wrinkling up as if he knew what he was about to say was madness. 

Williams flopped back, sprawled out on the floor. “What, do you think I’m one of Randall’s mirror people?” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “Oooh, I’m evil Danny. You’ve found out my plans.” 

To his surprise, Steve didn’t respond. Didn’t even deny that it didn’t sound ridiculous. That look of wariness was one he was used to in his own McGarrett, but looked unsettled on this one’s face when it came to looking at the man who was supposed to be his best friend. Instead of responding, he shook his head and turned to disappear into the kitchen.

Williams pushed up onto his elbows, staring at the doorway. All right, Steve was a good, factual soldier in any world. He couldn’t believe in that magical drivel because Williams never would have if he hadn’t been a victim of it. But if Steve did, that meant he’d just crossed the line from annoyance to liability and he couldn’t have that. 

Sliding the gun out of his holster, he quietly padded into the kitchen after him, turning the gun down at his side until he had the barrel in his hand. Steve was bent down by the kitchen door, the clink of glass inside telling him that he was fishing for beers. 

The moment that dark head appeared above the door, Williams slammed the gun’s grip down on the back of Steve’s head. The SEAL collapsed to the floor in front of him, the bottles in his hands breaking as he hit the floor. 

Williams slid the gun back into his holster. “I really could have just settled for driving you crazy but unfortunately, you’re smart even when you’re a dogooder. Or perceptive. Either way, I can’t chance you fucking up my fun and my escape. Partner.” Moving around the counter, he grabbed his ankles so he could pull him back out of the fridge’s doorway, allowing it to close. “This is your own fault, babe. You should have taken the other fun when I offered it.”


	7. Danny

Danny managed two bites of the lasagna before the knot in his stomach tightened up and he started pushing the remainder around his plate with a fork in an attempt to make it look like he’d eaten more than he really had. The actual food was delicious and at any other time, he would have devoured it with relish but his companions and their current conversation managed to kill his appetite as effectively as the targets they bragged about. 

“-with a simple pin. The charges were dropped the next day, not that they had much to go on,” Kono stated, leaning forward to pick up her wine glass. She swirled the contents once before taking a sip. “But it was time that Adam didn’t have to build a case and more time spent having fun.” She bit her tongue between her teeth as she glanced coyly at Adam Noshimuri sitting beside her. Chin Ho Kelly’s consigliere smiled modestly and raised her hand to his lips, the light glinting off the wedding band around his finger. Some things didn’t change and the previous joy Danny felt over his friend’s wedding was slightly sullied. 

“I think we can spare the rest of the details,” Kelly stated, waving a hand as if to brush off the rest of the details. He still had that calm demeanor that Danny always associated with Chin, but there was a darker undercurrent just beneath the surface. When they met in his office, shaking hands for the first time, Danny felt a chill run down his back as they made eye contact, even as Kelly made the somewhat innocent, disarming motion of pushing his wire frame glasses up his nose with a finger. This man was a powerhouse in the Hawaiian underground and without knowing much, he could believe it. 

McGarrett pointed his fork down the table at Danny. “Boss, I think that this partnership is going to work out very, very well. I like her style.” 

The mere mention of the partnership they’d struck not an hour before made Danny’s stomach tighten in knots even more, something he hadn’t even thought possible. It was no small miracle that he managed a smirk as he glanced between the two hitters. “Just don’t kill all the competition because a little bit of a challenge keeps things interesting,” he replied. “Besides, we can only come up with so many creative excuses as to disappearances.” 

That had been one of the points of the agreement after all. Kelly’s biggest issue to his island run businesses happened to be the presence of the alternate Five-0. Answering to the governor of Hawaii, Wo Fat, and lead by Victor Hesse, Irish-born Army Ranger gone reservist, the elite federal task force stood between Kelly and complete domination. Still, the crime boss didn’t seem too bothered, instead asking Danny to lend McGarrett’s assistance to the cause. McGarrett didn’t seem the least bit put out that Danny was asked, not when he apparently had beef with the Hesse brothers even in this universe.

Even in this universe, Rachel seemed a voice of reason. As his consigliere, he was sure she’d find a reason to advise against the Hawaii-Jersey alliance, but when he’d looked to her, she’d only nodded in approval. Unable to come up with a reason not to go through with it, Danny shook on the deal, pretending to be thrilled they could come to an agreement while the panic ramped up on the inside. So on top of finding a way home, he now had to stop McGarrett and Kalakaua from decimating this world’s Five-0. 

Danny grabbed his glass and knocked back the rest of his wine. The smart thing was to stay sober, but he couldn’t see one glass impairing him too much. As he set the glass back down, he caught McGarrett side-eyeing him. “So how long are you planning to stay?” he quickly asked Kelly, turning his attention back to him.

“We’ve decided to take in NYC for a couple of days,” Kelly replied. “We’re going to head up tonight, maybe see a show tomorrow. I drew the line at a week though. I like my warmer climates and sunshine.” He chuckled softly. “You should come down and visit. I have a house that I could put you and yours up in for as long as you’d like.” 

Rachel snorted. “Daniel and decent weather, actual sunshine, and beaches do not get along. He’s afraid that he’ll burst into flames.” He couldn’t even argue that, not when he seemed to have misplaced his light tan from being outdoors so often in the alternate universe swap. 

“Babe, it’s more unholy than bloodsucker. I do give back to the community,” Danny muttered, earning an eye roll. “Mr. Kelly, I appreciate the offer, but it might be a while with all the work on this new alliance of ours. I will keep that in mind though.”

Kelly rose from his seat. “I hope you will. Now that we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality, I think we’ll be heading back to the hotel. It seems the jet lag is messing with me.” At the prospect of getting the evil versions of his friends out of his house so he wouldn’t have to hear them brag about crimes against humanity, Danny scrambled up. 

“No advantage taken. We were happy to have you here to celebrate with us,” he replied, clasping Kelly’s hand, then Adam’s, and then finally leaned in to kiss Kalakaua’s cheek. “Rachel will show you out. I have to go check on my club, make sure everything is running all right. Thank you for coming and I hope you have a safe trip up to the city. Make sure you get a slice, it’s the best anywhere.” He continued to talk as he backed out of the dining room, right up to the door closing. Once out in the hallway, he sighed and fell back against the wall, closing his eyes. 

“I can do this. I can find a magical way back home,” he wiggled his fingers in the air, “while I make sure my super psycho friends do not maim the bad guys who are not so bad here. Hell, that’s not so bad. Maybe while I’m at it, bring down a crime family or two. Just a normal, run of the mill day in the life of Danny Williams.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out the flash drive that he’d found that morning. “And I need to find someone to break this encryption. Maybe I should have studied computer science instead of business.”

\-------------

Unable to think of anything else to do, Danny holed up in the home office again, inserted the flash drive into the laptop on the desk, and played with passwords again. Nearly an hour later and a list of words crossed off, he was no closer to getting in than he’d been when he started. Scowling, he slammed the lid shut, pulled the drive out, and stowed it back in his pocket. He needed to get out of the office, out of the house, away from all of it just to think for a moment. Being so immersed in it certainly wasn’t helping his frame of mind. 

Outside, the late autumn chill made for a crisp night. Danny buttoned up his coat and hunched his shoulders, digging his hands into the pockets. His fingers wrapped around the flash drive in his pocket, turning it over and over as if he might find the password ingrained in the surface. No such luck. “If I was a sociopathic mobster with all the secrets in my life kept in a single place, what would I use as a password?” he murmured, just to hear his own voice. There was something reassuring about the slight softness in the Jersey accent from six years in Hawaii, something that separated him from the man everyone thought he was. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The rest he had to treat as an undercover assignment. 

To his further dismay, the phone stayed silent in his pocket. No answer from the shopkeeper at the wiccan supplies store, no way in to the flash drive, and now an agreement to do harm to good - as much as he hated to admit it after hearing the names involved - people. He scrubbed his hands over his face, growling in frustration.

That was all it took. That brief moment of obscured vision, of the appearance of letting his guard down. Something slammed into his body and drove him into the fence to his right, the metal clanging as he hit it. Danny let out a harsh breath and shoved back, staggering to the side in the brief moment that his attacker was off balance. Dressed all in black, wearing a ski mask, the only thing he could see was the glint of pale blue eyes. “Clara sends her regards for your father.” The fabric around the mouth moved as the man - at least from the sound of his voice - spoke. 

“What?” Danny wheezed, bent forward, hands on his knees. Expecting an answer he blamed on the drain on his brain over the last day and only barely brought his hands up in time to stop the knee aimed at his lowered face. The fall back into a boxer’s set position was natural, even though he hadn’t seen a ring in years, and he sent a sharp jab at his attacker’s face. The two of them continued to dance around, the attacker getting in more hits than Danny, but Danny fighting to give as good. 

It was the last blow to the jaw that dropped him on the sidewalk. He saw the knife, felt his heart kick up in fear, then

Nothing. The attacker had gone still, then slowly tilted forward and fell to the sidewalk beside Danny. He didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare move, until McGarrett emerged from the shadows nearby, calmly unhitching the silencer from his gun. “What the _fuck_ was that?” Danny demanded, waving at the body beside him. Cop instinct kicked in and he got up onto his knees, reaching over to feel for a pulse. 

He was dead as a doornail. Rolling him over, Danny relieved him off his mask and found an entirely unfamiliar face staring up at him. That as almost a relief in this place. He settled back on his feet, giving McGarrett another look, hands waving at the man. “Explain?” 

McGarrett gave the body an unconcerned look, lazily shrugging a shoulder. “He tried to kill you. I killed him. No one messes with my paycheck.” He gave Danny that sharp grin that reminded him of a shark looking at its dinner and he barely suppressed a shiver. It was not a look that he liked seeing on that face. “Obviously, your mother is still pissed about her income drying up when you took care of your father.” He crouched down beside Danny, searching the body on the ground and pocketing the few items that he found. “I told you that cutting off her credit card was a bad idea. She would have remained content otherwise.”

Danny’s head slowly turned to look at him. “Would you like to run that by me again? Better yet, would you like to explain to me how, in this rich neighborhood, there is not a single person yelling about the noise we just made or threatening to call the police?” 

The body flopped over as McGarrett continued to search. “Did he hit you a little hard in the head, D?” He pointed over his shoulder. “For sale, for sale, for sale. No one likes living near the mob, especially after a little persuasion.” And by persuasion, he probably meant he’d strong armed them into finding a new neighborhood so family business could be conducted in peace. “Don’t worry, boss, I got this taken care of. You really should get your ass back to the house.” 

Rising to his feet, Danny staggered a few feet past McGarrett, then stopped and looked back. “Hold up. How did you get here so quickly?” Because he certainly hadn’t invited anyone along for the walk and it wasn’t like he was that close to the house that any sound of struggle would attract attention. 

McGarrett frowned. “You really did take a good one to the head, huh? It’s as The Police say, D. ‘Every move you make and every step you take, I’ll be watching you.’” 

Oh, that was not good. When one was planning to take down the mob, that was the last thing they really needed to hear.


	8. Williams

Williams was no stranger to restraint, both in being restrained and the one doing the restraining. The problem with Navy SEALs, he’d found, happened to be that they could be searched head to toe, all furniture and objects moved out of their way, and they could still kill you in the time it took to blink since their bodies were registered deadly weapons. He’d pushed the furniture to the walls, keeping the chair in the middle of the room, Steve’s arms bound behind the back with two sets of handcuffs, body duct taped to the chair. The other man still out cold one he finished, he checked the restraints one more time before taking in the rest of the house.

The broken bottle pieces on the floor were dumped in the garbage, the beer wiped up. Whatever people might have thought of him, the housekeeper still raised him and his siblings to have some standards. Once the towels were tossed away, he padded upstairs. Most of the rooms were boring, the typical old bedrooms and storage rooms found in houses passed down through a generation or two. It was apparent that Steve didn’t come in here often by the layer of dust on the cardboard boxes. _Mary Ann’s Dolls. Dad’s Models. Mom’s Clothes._ That last one was interesting. He knew what happened to the sister and the dad, but the mother was still alive last he knew. An FBI agent that kept trying to track her wayward son down.

The last room he checked turned out to be Steven’s. It didn’t have that much of a lived in look, typical military man keeping things neat and tidy like someone was going to inspect it. Williams headed to the bedside table, tugging out the drawer. The interesting shit always ended up in the bedside table, close at hand. At first glance, he thought it would be as boring as the rest, then he found the small box tucked in the back, a diamond ring nestled in the velvet. “Who were you going to propose to?” he murmured, an eyebrow arching. “Or even juicier, who broke your heart?” He snapped the box shut and closed the drawer. 

Downstairs, Steve’s head still hung forward, his body absolutely still. “Come on,” Williams muttered under his breath, flopping down on the couch. The mail Steve brought in when he got home slid towards him and he tossed the bills away, until a brown envelope piqued his interest. Tearing open the flap, he let the contents drop into his hand. Pictures from some race. Steve, Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua, and himself, standing in a line, covered in mud. Pictures of the four of them in blue shirts in various states of celebration. The last with Steve’s arms flung wide, positively beaming down at Danny as the other looked up at him with a wide grin, favoring a bad knee and one arm flung out to accept the hug. 

Williams stared at the photo, the expressions on their faces. He could say with all certainty that McGarrett had never looked at him like that, but then again, Williams had never looked at McGarrett like that. Hell, he’d never looked at Rachel like that either, not even his own daughter. His lips pressed in a tight line. “Maybe you were right, old man. Maybe I’m not capable of feeling that shit.” He snorted and shook his head. “It means I’ll be the last one standing when everyone’s shot through the heart.” Tilting his head, he let the last words hang for a moment before he started humming the Bon Jovi song. 

A low groan brought the musical interlude to an end and he rose up only to move over to the coffee table, sinking down to settle on the end of it. Steve’s head bobbed once, as if testing the mobility of his neck, then jerked upright, eyes squeezed shut as he no doubt felt an increase in throbbing in the area he’d been pistol whipped. _Been there, done that. Not a fan,_ Williams thought as he watched him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. It was a full moment before Steve finally cracked open his eyes and focused in on Williams. The look in his eyes immediately became cold, the SEAL mask slamming shut over all those warm and fuzzy emotions. That was the McGarrett he knew and screwed senseless on an almost daily basis. 

“Morning, sweetheart. Well, evening,” Williams stated, tilting his head in indication towards the window, the sun almost entirely below the horizon outside. “I was wondering when you’d finally wake up from your beauty sleep. Any longer and I was going to get bored.” 

Steve continued to stare at him. Williams got the sense that he was being studied like a specimen on a dissection table, not unlike biology class in high school. The blue eyes gave nothing away as they swept over him, then slowly back up to meet his eyes. “What the hell are you doing, Danny?” he finally asked, breaking the stretching silence. His voice stayed low, even, but the way he swallowed after was a sign of distress. This bothered him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. That was one hell of a poker face.

“Uh, it looks like I am holding you hostage. I mean, you’re tied to a chair in a way that makes it improbable that I am going to get that t-shirt and those shorts off of you. There’s grinding but really, that is so juvenile,” Williams stated, spreading his hands wide. “No, actually, I’m making this part up as I go along because you got that _look_. You know, the one you get when you’ve sunk your teeth into a lead and you refuse to let go because you’re like an annoying little terrier. You’ll just keep shaking until you’ve killed it and frankly, that probably would have ruined my fun, so.” 

Somewhere during his little talk, Steve tuned out and started yanking at his restraints. The more it held, the harder he yanked until Williams was sure he was just going to yank his arm out of the socket or dislocate his thumb to slip loose. He rolled his eyes skyward, mumbled under his breath for patience, then stood up, striding to stand just out of reach of Steve. “Will you stop? I get that you’re a ninja but really, what do you think you’re going to do right now? Garrote me with a pair of handcuffs once you manage to slip out by tearing off your thumb?” He paused. “No, you probably would,” he added after a beat, shaking a finger at him. “Nevermind. The point still stands for you to stop or I’m going to smack you right into a coma.” 

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “So getting back to what I was saying. I was fine to let you run around but that look on your face - I’m not stupid, okay? You may have been trained to be an instrument of deadly logic by our lovely military, but there’s a part of you that does have some spiritual believe. You more than McGarrett but not enough, or very well hidden, that it’s the last thing people expect you to be.” He balled up his fist, tapping it against his open palm. “There’s a part of you that believed what Randall said and that, my bound friend, is not a risk I can take.”

Steve stopped struggling somewhere around the end of the explanation, his eyes curiously focused on Williams’ arm. “What?” Williams demanded, tugging the sleeve down a little farther. It was playing stupid. He knew all too well what caught Steve’s attention, the end of a wicked scar that curved around on his elbow. He hated the fucking thing and of course the eagle eyed sailor would pick up on it, now that he was fully focused on him. 

“Where’d you get the scar, Danny?” Steve asked, leaning back casually in the chair and giving his arms a break from the struggling. 

“None of your business, Steve,” he snapped back, unrolling the sleeve a little farther. It wasn’t like it mattered now but it was the principle of the thing. This was his show and Steve was the audience. The audience didn’t participate unless asked. “Actually, no.” He turned to pick up the box from the table, holding it up. “I’ll answer that question if you answer this one, because I really am curious.” 

And there came that freezing cold stare again. Steve was gritting his teeth, his jaw working. The expression on his face came very close to a man suffering from an aneurysm or about to. “You’re not my Danny,” he stated softly, as if trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince the man standing in front of him that he knew. “Danny would know.” 

Williams grinned slowly. “Did someone break your heart, Steven? Who was she? Or he, I don’t judge. Hell, I know you very intimately back home.” He ran his gaze over Steve’s body that, while restrained and clothed, didn’t show much, but it got his point across. The shoulders hunched and Steve’s brow furrowed in a dark glare. “So? You want to answer me? I mean, you and I are going to have a while to get to know each other until I figure out what to do with you.”

Steve seemed to consider that for a moment before shrugging. “You first or no deal. Aren’t you supposed to do all the talking anyway?” 

Williams rolled his eyes again. At this rate, they were going to tumble right out of the sockets. “That’s adorable, painting me the stereotypical black hat on Saturday morning cartoons. Too bad I left my henchmen at home, they’d get a kick out of you.” He took his seat on the coffee table again, leaning back to rest on his elbows.

“When I was thirteen, I was walking to school with this kid, the son of a friend of my father’s. Enemy of our family, they snatch us up, decide to hold us for leverage. Turns out, your own flesh and blood isn’t really leverage in that business. That’s why he and my ma had three more kids after me, you know? Backups.” He tilted his head back, looking up towards the ceiling, giving the story a pause for dramatic effect. “So Pops, he tells the guy no dice, do what they had to. Guy doesn’t want a couple of kids around so he tells his right hand man to get rid of us. So while the putz is making short work of Billy, I’m already moving.” 

Sitting up again, he rolled the right sleeve up more, bearing more of the scar disappearing up the back of his arm. “He got a lucky swipe in at me before I got behind him, cut his achilles with glass. Then I cut his throat.” The calm manner in which he stated it made it sound like he’d done the man a favor. Really, he had. It was a quicker death than he’d deserved but at that age, Williams didn’t know the first thing about killing. But once he drew his first blood...

Surprisingly, there was no ‘I’m sorry’ or a softening look. Instead, it was like a lightbulb went on in that thick skull of his. “Billy is still a defining moment,” Steve murmured, words Williams barely heard. He sure as hell would not be leaning in to catch them, not in range of those big feet that could crunch his neck faster than he could count to one. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Waving a hand, Williams held up the box again. “So who does this belong to? Please be detailed, I love a good sob story. To laugh at. I love a good sob story to laugh at,” he amended. 

Steve’s chin rose a little, his expression defiant. “And why do I owe you anything? I didn’t say I agreed to the deal, just that I wouldn’t agree to it if you didn’t go first,” he replied. “And I decline to answer.” 

Williams stared at him for nearly half a minute before he let out a bark of laughter. “That’s true,” he replied, shaking a finger at him. “That is very true. God, playing a cop has already knocked my IQ down points. I’m really going to have to get moving on this before justice for everyone starts to infect me.” He got back to his feet, striding to stand in front of Steve, the box still in his hand.

“You know what I think this is? It’s a reminder of the moment you finally realized that no one can love you. Will love you. Men like you, you’re damaged goods. The military trains you to kill, to become the deadliest you can be, and makes you keep secrets and who in their right mind wants to keep that around permanently? I mean, I mentioned screwing McGarrett, but that’s it. I wouldn’t enter into a relationship with him because...” He whistled, making a circular motion next to his head. 

“But you know the saddest part? You’re pathetic on top of broken.” He returned to the couch, picking up the last picture in the pile. “What were you planning on doing with this, keeping it as spank material? Because this hug looks pretty intimate to me.” He turned the picture around for Steve to see, but the SEAL had already averted his eyes, staring at Williams’ stomach instead. He lowered the picture and Steve’s eyes slid sideways, focusing on the wall. “You are such a child, you know that? No wonder mystery woman bolted on you. More mature fish in the sea. Mature, unbroken, less pathetic fish in the sea that are not you.” 

Williams tossed the picture and ring box onto the couch, leaning down to get Steve’s attention back. After two snaps of his fingers, he finally made eye contact again and there was that tic in his jaw. “No one is ever going to love you, Steve, especially not your Danny. But that’s okay, you’re not going to be around much longer to keep on pining. Once I get rid of Kelly, then Kalakaua? I’m going to find a way back to my reality, the reality that I rule, and right before I leave here, I’m going leave you dying so the last word on your lips is his name.”

Steve let out a sudden laugh and shook his head. “Do you even listen to yourself? At least Danny owns his size. You have a Napoleonic complex the size of what you think you actually are.” The corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk. “I know my team, I know that I won’t have to lift a finger and they’re going to figure you out just as easily as I did. Then we’ll keep you on ice long enough for my Danno to get back here and put you in your place because he’s a hell of a lot smarter than you could ever hope to be,” he finished in a snarl, leaning against the restraints. 

Williams’ bottom lip pouted out slightly as he glanced sideways, as if thinking it over. Despite his casual air, the comment about the Napoleonic complex struck a nerve. “No, I don’t think so,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m amending how I see things going. McGarrett’s going to gut him, let him die slowly, so neither of you gets to see the other before you die.” His grin was vicious, showing white teeth. 

Then his fist lashed out, knuckles slamming into Steve’s jaw. His head whipped to the side and the chair rocked slightly. “So let the games begin and let’s see who’s right.”


	9. Danny

Danny turned his face up to the spray of hot water, basking in the moment of peace, quiet, and solitude he’d finally managed to grab for himself. The problem that remained, the icy chill running down his back, couldn’t be solved by the hot water though, or the quiet and alone time. He could crank the water temperature up until it scalded his skin and it would persist as the image of someone with his best friend’s face carelessly murdered and disposed of a man. Sure, he’d been about to kill Danny, but McGarrett caught him unawares. He could have restrained him.

But he never would have. That’s what they were. Mobsters and mercenaries, thieves and corrupt practitioners of business. They only did morally right and legal when it suited their purposes. 

Taking a step back from the water, he let it hit his chest while he opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall. His mind took a departure from the problems of the present to remember a time when he’d come pretty damn close to ending up on the wrong side of the law by his own actions.

When he was sixteen, he’d been a damn good catcher for his high school baseball team, a standout with enough talent to possibly go farther. Regional playoffs, he’d gone to make a catch at home plate, trying to beat the runner coming in hot. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, staring up at the lights. After a few seconds of confusion, his body and mind finally synced up and acknowledged the screaming pain in his knee. Torn ACL, out for the rest of the season and most likely for football of his senior year. The latter didn’t bother him, not nearly as much as the former did. He enjoyed football but he could live without it; baseball was another thing entirely.

Then people started to drift. The second string catcher made a game winning play and became the new star athlete focus. It was like Danny ceased to exist when it came to his teammates, instead spending the rest of playoffs sitting on the bleachers with his crutches, watching the camaraderie in the dugout that he wasn’t part of. His parents had three other, younger children to watch over, much as Danny himself did. That was nothing new. And high school friendships, well, some of them were fleeting. He felt lost and isolated.

The crowd he ended up running with for a while, they skipped class and hopped fences, picked locks and shoplifted. Danny stayed on the peripheral, never intending to cross the line but he came to a point where he just wanted someone to pay attention to him again, even if it was negative attention. Yelling at him, lecturing him, something. When just hanging out with them didn’t get him anywhere, he finally stepped it up and tried his new breaking and entering skills on his father’s car for a few bucks. His father caught him in the act. 

Eddie scuffled with him, put him on his ass, yelled so Danny thought the entire neighborhood might hear. The entire time, Danny kept his head up, staring his father down, but little by little, the guilt caught up with him until he hung his head, hunched his shoulders. Eddie’s voice softened then, reminding him that if that had been someone else’s car, if he’d been caught, his future in law enforcement would have been done. The one thing he’d wanted since he was a child, the future he still had hope for. High school, his torn ACL, wasn’t the end of it. Not by a long shot.

Those guys ended up falling with the crime families in the area, notably Salvo’s organization, while Danny ended up in the boxing ring. It was his father’s idea, something to take his anger out on on and teach him a little discipline, imbue him with some skills for the future. 

The difference between that version and this one was that Danny never wanted this life. He’d run with that crowd because they at least acknowledged he existed, but most of the time, his gut screamed at him, tried to get him to leave. Too many morals, too many smarts, call it what they will. It wasn’t a life he wanted, just like he couldn’t wait to get out of this one, no matter how much power he had. 

Turning off the shower, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. At least the physical scum had been washed away, but the mental clung like velcro. He brushed a hand through his hair and shuffled back into the bedroom, picking up the phone from the bedside table. One missed call and a voicemail from an unfamiliar number.

“This is Elizabeth. You asked me to research an old legend for you and I found some information. The shop closes at six if you would like to stop in afterward.” His cop brain listened to every word she spoke, replaying the message again just to focus on her tone, making sure that there wasn’t something underlying. If McGarrett had followed him when he was unaware, if he’d found out anything about what Danny was up to, coerced the shopkeeper, then he was screwed. Fortunately, there was nothing that he could detect that would make him uneasy about meeting up with her. Now he just had to distract the evil ninja who was no doubt lurking nearby in the shadows. 

Off that thought, he swept his gaze around the room, expecting him to pop out of a corner or shadow just like he did every other time Danny wanted some alone time. The room remained as empty and silent as it had been, no sign of another person. Of course, it would be too easy to just think of him and have him pop into being. On the other hand, he was thankful he and this McGarrett didn’t see to share that kind of a link. It was bad enough that he noticed when his movements matched up with Steve’s and he loved that guy.

“Why do you feel the need to spend this much on clothing?” Danny paid no mind to fashion but he could recognize some of the names on the shirt tags, his eyes widening as he pawed through and realized that each one cost about a week’s worth of salary for him, maybe two. “Half the time, you’re probably covered in blood from the slaughter of innocence. I mean, half the time, I’ve got bullet holes in my shirt from close calls and partnering with a bullet magnet, so I, you know, buy for the occasion. Cheap and sturdy doesn’t make you less of a mobster,” he huffed under his breath, finally pulling a dark blue shirt out and slipping it on. 

He was just pulling up a pair of stupidly expensive black pants when a light knock came at the door. Danny hesitated, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like buttoning up pants would reveal his soul wasn’t blackened by the fires of hell like the rest of them. “Yeah?” he called, trying to inject the right amount of annoyance into his voice. 

“It’s McGarrett. I need to talk to you.”

What now? Had he hijacked a bus full of orphans? Kidnapped the president’s daughter for ransom? Maybe he’d decided to become a terrorist because he had the winning disposition for it. Rolling back his shoulders, sliding back into the role, he marched across the room and pulled the door open. “Since when do you knock? I expected you to come sneaking your way into the shower at any moment,” he stated, waving him inside. “What is it now? Something happen with my mother’s homicidal purchase?” 

Positioning himself in front of the mirror meant he could see McGarrett behind him without giving him the impression that he was watching intently. McGarrett slunk over to the bed and sat on the side, leaning back and supporting his weight on his hands. “Did you catch something again?”

Danny nearly choked at that. “Excuse me?” he demanded, whirling around. 

McGarrett shrugged. “The last time you went on a no sex bender, it was because you caught something.” He gave Danny a toothy white grin. “The lasting effects of sealing the deal with that arms dealer.” 

_What the hell?_ Danny’s legs mentally tightened together at the mere thought of catching something from a stranger for sex to seal a business deal. He’d done a little bit of experimenting in college but found that in the end, he needed an emotional connection for it to be any good. That was _not_ the kind of emotional connection. _Ever._ “No! We’ve gone a few days without and your first thought is ‘oh hey, did you catch a STD again’? Really? If you go a few days without killing someone, I’m sure my first thought isn’t ‘oh, he must have grown a feeling’.” When McGarrett glanced down, Danny scowled. “Your dick’s feelings do not count as they do nothing to further peace and love in the world.” 

Which gave him an idea of how to get around McGarrett. Not an idea that he liked, or wanted to go through at any length, but it wasn’t like he could make up a mission off the top of his head that would sound legitimate and get rid of him for a day or more. _Forgive me, Steve._ The few buttons he’d already done up, he slid his hand over and undid again. Slowly, he crossed the room to climb up to straddle McGarrett’s lap, arms wrapping around his neck. 

_Play the part._ It became a mantra in his head as he kissed McGarrett hard. McGarrett’s hands settled on his hips, tugging Danny’s body against his and his piqued interest. “You’re such a nympho,” Danny snapped against his lips in the beat he chose to take a breath, “and a controlling one at that.” The hands sliding up his sides, under his unbuttoned shirt, sent a shiver down his body. 

“Controlling?” McGarrett chuckled softly before he nibbled down Danny’s neck. Danny drew in a sharp breath when his teeth dug in, guaranteeing a bruise. “You think I call you boss because I’m employed by you?” 

Danny’s hands grabbed McGarrett’s wrists and he pushed him back, down on the bed and pinning him. “So if I do this, if I tell you not to move, you’d take that as an order?” he demanded softly, bending down to kiss along his jawline, down his neck. One hand released a wrist to snap the buttons on his shirt so that he could kiss farther down, over the stomach he’d once had an aborted fantasy about, stopping just short of the waistband of his pants. “No, not movement. I need something more.” His fingers brushed over the crotch of McGarrett’s pants. “Handcuffs. I know you have to have them. Two pairs.” He sat up, holding up two fingers. 

“Bedside drawer,” McGarrett’s head tilted as he otherwise remained reclined on the bed. Danny slowly climbed off, flicking his fingers towards the headboard. While the mercenary moved, he searched the bedside table, finding more condoms than he really felt was necessary for a month, much less a year, economy sized lube (nymphomaniacs was not that far off after all), and two sets of handcuffs in the back. He pulled those out and claimed two ties from the closet, returning to McGarrett. 

Cuffs secured around his wrists, ties around his ankles, he stood over McGarrett bound to his bed, leaning down for another rough kiss before pulling away. “Now, you sit tight and hold your salute,” he whispered in his ear, “and I will make sure that you’re well rewarded when I get back.” His teeth caught McGarrett’s earlobe and tugged. Buttoning up his shirt, he kept what he hoped passed for an evil smirk on his face as he stepped back, then scooped up his shoes and pulled them on, all the while hopping for the door. The shoulder holster off the desk chair, the coat on over, and he pause at the door. “If you leave, take how many days we haven’t had sex and multiply that by ten. That’s how much time you’ll be spending with your hand,” he added, just before slamming it behind him.

He made it to his car before he allowed himself to breathe. Alone, his nose scrunched up and he stuck his tongue out. “I can taste the evil,” he groaned. “I need whiskey or scotch or bleach or my Steve. Preferably the last with an actual interest in me, but I’ll take all of the former instead if he’s not.” Searching through his pockets, he located his wallet and his phone. The phone rang twice before a female voice answered.

“Agent Rollins.” 

“Agent Rollins, this is Danny Williams. I want to make you an offer you’re not going to want to refuse.”


	10. Williams

Williams didn’t blame the bartender for the uncertain look he gave the ruffled man sinking on the last stool in the farthest corner of the Waikiki bar. There were a few tourists about in the early morning hours, sipping what looked to be mimosas and lounging on the outdoor furniture in the sun. The blond man in a button up shirt, khakis, and a split bottom lip sure as hell stood out, but it was the best place he’d found so far to get out of sight until he could regain his wits. “Hey. A little less staring and a little more pouring,” he demanded, tilting his hand back and forth to mime a bottle. “Give me something strong and make it quick, like your tip depends on it.” 

While the bartender dug under the counter for a glass and a bottle, he slumped down in his seat and rest his forehead on his arms. The night passed quickly enough, Steve receiving the occasional working over during breaks in the one-sided conversation. True to his training, Steve stayed silent, eyes trained on the closest he could get to Williams’ face without looking him in the face, most likely trying to not let the cruel visage of his best friend imprint in his brain. Then Williams took a break for his sore knuckles and when he came back - 

_Fucking ninjas_. The moment the glass touched countertop in front of him, Williams snatched it up and tilted his head. “Get the hell out of here,” he snapped, then lunged forward and grabbed the sleeve of the bartender’s t-shirt. “No, wait, there’s a hundred in it for you if - “ he paused as he fumbled for his phone, then realized that he’d left it behind with the car in an attempt to remain untraced “-you know who Steve McGarrett is? Yes, no - okay, good, just nod. If you see him, give me a head’s up. We’re not on speaking terms right now. You got that? Good. Now get the fuck out of here.” 

Slouching back into his seat, he used the cocktail napkin to dab a little alcohol onto his lip, hissing at the sting. After finding the chair empty and the door to the lanai open, he’d pulled his gun and gone for the front door. He could handle himself just fine but in hand to hand combat with a pissed SEAL, he knew how he was coming out and getting the hell out of Dodge was a better option all around. It was the creak of an old house that spooked him and he plowed right into the doorframe, causing the injury to his lip. A goddamn doorway, not even a fight for survival. Putting his shame on hold, he’d grabbed the Camaro’s keys and booked it. A short time later, the car was ditched and he made his way deep into the tourist crowd in Waikiki, banking on blending in with those who weren’t in Hawaii long enough to know who the infamous Five-0 were. 

“You look like you’ve had a rough start to the day already.” Before he could tell her to take a hike, the blond climbed on the stool beside him and raised a finger. “A water please?” The bartender nodded and she turned back to Williams, resting her arms on the countertop. “Mugging?” Her brow pinched in sympathy. 

He was a master of improvisation and jumped on any opening he could. “Yeah,” he replied, quickly going from ‘don’t talk to me’ to ‘world weary’ in a heartbeat. “I was out with some business associates last night and on the way back to my hotel...” he trailed off and shrugged helplessly. “I’m from the city but when in paradise, you relax maybe a little too much, you know?” 

She nodded and accepted her glass from the bartender, taking a quick sip before she put it down and turned back to him. “Oh, I know. I’m from San Francisco and it’s still hard to believe there’s even any crime here at all,” she replied, shaking her head. There was something about her that he liked, her voice soft and even, but confident all the same. “I’ve heard the police force here is second to none though. Did you talk to them?” 

Williams quickly shook his head. “I was soothing my wounded ego before I did,” he said, lifting the glass in indication. “Then before I headed to my morning meeting, I thought I could stop in.”

The blonde sat up a little straighter. “You know what? I could save you a little time.” Williams felt his stomach sink as she reached to her back pocket and withdrew a badge he’d become too familiar with over the past couple of days. “Inspector Abby Dunn, Five-0. How may I help you today?” That smile, he knew that smile. That was the faux helpful smile he gave people when he had no intention of being helpful. 

His muscles tensed subtly and then with a sudden push, he launched off the stool and headed for the open front of the bar and the beach beyond, the numbers slowly growing as the sun rose higher in the sky. Just before he made it to freedom, his six foot menace from Hell stepped into view, dressed in full tactical gear, battered, bruised, pissed, and hand sitting on his - currently holstered, thank god - gun. “Hey, buddy. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Steve said, the glint in his eyes decidedly unfriendly. 

“Well I haven’t been looking for you because _someone_ only shows up when _he_ wants to,” Williams shot back, flinging his hands wide. “Have you not been immersed in civilian society long enough? Is it a genetic defect of that face that you refuse to make any sound when you walk? Because let me tell you, it is extremely unnerving and most likely going to get you -” 

His hand, which had been miming emphatically along with his words, dipped down to his holster and pulled the gun loose. Steve’s gun was trained on his forehead, but his gun was trained on Steve’s. Somewhere off to the side, he faintly heard, “come on, brah. My boss is going to kill me if you guys do your usual property damage.” Steve’s expression became slightly annoyed but he didn’t shoot the kid a look, reserving the death scowl for Williams. 

Williams used the voice to swing the gun around. “Hey, how about you stay for a while, kid? Right there.” He glanced back at Steve. “Now it’s really fun, SEAL boy. You think you can put one in your best friend’s forehead before he puts one in an innocent civilian?” He caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth, faintly amused. Despite his situation, there was something fulfilling about the warring indecision and duty on Steve’s face. 

“Or a third option. You put the gun down because you’re surrounded.” He felt the cold barrel tip of a gun press against the back of his neck, then a hand wrapping around his wrist, pushing it down so the gun would discharge into the floor if it went off and then taking it from him completely. “Hey, Kono,” Williams said as the gun thief moved in front of him, gun still pointed at him. “So that must be Chin Ho standing behind me. The gang’s all here.” 

“I’d be a little offended if I didn’t know you were evil.” The newcomer had Williams’ eyebrows rising towards his hairline before he let out a bark of laughter.

“Lou Grover? Chicago’s most terrifying mobster is a cop?” he crowed, bending forward slightly. “The guy who puts me to shame?” 

Grover glared at him, then shifted his gaze to Steve. “You’re right. The moment he opens his mouth, it just destroys the illusion.” 

Steve remained staring at Williams, his expression gone cold again. Nothing given away in those stormy blue eyes, lips pressed in a firm line. “The less he talks, the better.” He turned to place a hand against Grover’s shoulder. “Get him back to headquarters and handcuffed in interrogation. Keep it quiet. This...” It was there that, Williams noted with interest, he hesitated slightly. “No one needs to know about this for when we figure this situation out and _our_ Danny is back.” 

Williams tilted his head, bottom lip pouting out. “But Steven, I am your partner,” he intoned in a high pitched, girlish voice. When everyone stopped to look at him, he scowled. “Really? No one has seen The Others? Nicole Kidman? Look, I barely have any free time and I’ve seen that mo - _ow_!” 

Kono, apparently done with their conversation, grabbed his wrist and wrenched it behind his back. “Chin, may I please borrow your cuffs to book the impostor?” she asked, emphasizing the last word in Williams’ ear. 

“Yes, Kono, you absolutely may. I’m sure we can find something to gag him if he doesn’t shut up,” Chin replied from his other side, voice low and dangerous in a way that left Williams with the question of intimidating or a little bit of a turn on. Both was the final decision. Definitely both. 

“If you wanted to tie me up and gag me, all you had to do was ask nicely,” Williams murmured, leaning back against Chin and tilting his head up to look at him, smiling demurely. “I’ve never done cousins either, so that’ll be a new experience.” 

Steve crossed the several steps between them in a blink, rising imposingly above Williams as he yanked him forward with a fistful of shirt. “You are going to keep your mouth shut,” he snarled and this time, there was no mistaking the feeling of being intimidated and turned on at the same time. Williams gaze dropped down to his lips, licking his own in a nervous gesture. “You are not going to say a word to my team unless it is respectful, which will probably be never coming from you. You are not _our Danny_ and we’re not going to treat you as such.” 

And just like that, he released Williams’ shirt. “Interrogation room,” Steve repeated, his voice getting softer, lighter, but still holding that authoritative tone, as he addressed the cousins behind Williams. “Just leave him there until we’re ready to deal with him.” He nodded to Abby still hovering off to the side. “You and Lou go get those files, all right? We’ll meet back at main headquarters in an hour.” 

Shooting Williams a dark look, he turned to head out. “I’m going to see a witch about a thing.”


	11. Danny

Since he didn’t trust McGarrett to stay tied down for long, Danny knew leaving a trail of breadcrumbs across the city would be his best bet at showing up at the meeting with Agent Rollins alone, as well as making it to the witch person’s shop at closing time without a tail. Somewhere along the line, he would have to lose his phone and make it look like an accident to remain untracked for longer. With the possibility that McGarrett might end up with it before he did, Danny quickly cleaned out any damning evidence, erasing the calls to Catherine, the message from Elizabeth and her phone number. Cleaning his search history just right took a little more work but by the time he slid it back into his pocket, no one would suspect anything just from scrolling through his phone. It would take some deep searching to uncover his “indiscretions”, as they were.

Danny was also a little shit at times, as he was more than aware and proudly owned, so as he started his trail of false leads, he made sure to put a few charges on Williams’ credit card. The first stop, a coffee shop with a booming breakfast crowd, earned all of their coffee comped by a guy just feeling in a giving mood. The tab made his eyebrow rise, but the mental reassurance that his asshole twin would be the one paying the bill quickly soothed the anxiety. Sure, it would make McGarrett suspicious too, but Danny wasn’t long for this world anyway. At least he hoped he wasn’t. 

Several more stops were crossed off his itinerary, until he made it to the Greyhound bus station and left the car. Purchasing a ticket to head up north with the card, he ditched his phone on one of the benches, covered with a newspaper, then headed back out. After crisscrossing the streets several times to add to the confusion, he finally struck out for the place he’d arranged to meet Catherine.

She came after all. While speaking on the phone, she’d expressed her concerns that this was a setup. Danny told her to bring backup, as long as they kept their distance while they spoke. As he crossed to the bench where she sat, reading a newspaper, he scanned around the street and found not a single person that screamed _law enforcement_ or _military_ lurking around. Good for them for finally getting people who understood the meaning of blending in.

“Agent Rollins. Glad to see you could make it.” As he approached, Danny held out his hand. Catherine gave the hand a suspicious look and then tilted her head up to squint at him. Reluctantly, she finally took it for a shake. Apparently she was expecting a different greeting out of him, rather than one of easy familiarity. Danny settled on the other end of the bench, crossing an ankle over his knee and casually spinning at his coffee as they watched couples and families wander by, people hurrying on their way to work.

Slowly folding up the newspaper, Catherine set it between them and then laid her arm across the top of the bench. “You piqued my interest regarding your offer, but if it doesn’t include McGarrett, then you and I met for nothing,” she told him bluntly. “From what I hear, you two are very, ah, close, so if I find out that you did drag me here for nothing...” 

Danny held up his hand. “I didn’t drag you here for nothing.” During their initial meeting, Danny was still too new to the world and how it worked, the familiar faces that were the opposite of the people he knew and loved. Good was bad, bad was good. He’d also come to realize that protecting McGarrett wouldn’t do any good. Here, the Steve he knew and loved didn’t exist, replaced by a man dark and violent, the kind of man that would casually kill for crossing him. A man like Marco Reyes. 

The realization kicked him hard between the eyes while he sat up all night, staring blankly at a wall, too tired to sleep. There was no mention of Matt after a certain point, no pictures, no records, no emails or texts. That led Danny’s mind down a different path, the analysis that separated the people he knew from the people they were here. Catherine - the NCIS agent - had been right when she warned him that McGarrett was dangerous and unpredictable. He was loyal to Williams because they shared depravity and violence, but McGarrett would turn on Danny the instant he figured out who he really was and sooner or later, the mobster facade would crash down around Danny’s ears because he would run into something that Williams would do, but that Danny couldn’t. 

No, he was still haunted by putting the gun to Reyes’ head and pulling the trigger. Not because of what he’d done, retribution for Matt and the protection of his family, but the abuse of his badge. It may not have held any power in Columbia, but long ago, Danny swore an oath to uphold the laws that badge represented. Since joining Five-0, he’d done his fair amount of stretching the law, but the blatant taking of a human life, acting as judge, jury and executioner? Some nights, the scene still played out in his dreams. Others, his dead brother reminded him of his failure. 

Pulling the flash drive out of his pocket, he set it on the folded newspaper between them and slipped it across. “This undoubtedly holds the secrets of the Williams family in one bestselling novel. Dirty deeds to bring into the light, skeletons to pull out of the closet, so on,” he stated, waving a hand casually as he checked his surroundings again. In the back of his mind, that continuous anxiety expected to see McGarrett storming towards them at any moment, fit to kill. “The only problem is that it’s encrypted. Now, I was going to take this to NPD, give their organized crime department the big win, but then I realized that you’re in a better position given you get something you want out of this too.”

Catherine eyed the flash drive, picking it up and turning it over in her hands. “Why? You’re the head of the biggest east coast family and it’s impossible to even bring you in on charges, much less put any of you away,” she said softly, eyebrow arching. “Why would you want to end your source of power and put yourself in jail? Because once the proper authorities get ahold of this, there is no making a deal.” 

Danny licked his lips, trying to find a plausible explanation. “Eddie Williams had three sons,” he said finally, hoping he sounded more casual about the lie than he felt. What else was he going to do, as her if she believed in magic? “Not two. The first born had a twin that didn’t meet traditional standards so he disowned him early on, destroyed traces of his existence.”

Her eyes widened slightly, mouth forming a small ‘o’. “You?” Danny nodded slowly. “So why now?” 

He shrugged and nodded to the flash drive. “I was finally able to get my hands on that drive. My brother, my family, McGarrett and the rest of them? They’ve done enough to people. This has to end once and for all and I need the help to finally stop it, more manpower than I have at my disposal and someone with a better understanding of encryption. You put that into motion and I will give you McGarrett, set him up for you to take him down.” 

She was reluctant and he didn’t blame her. The deal seemed too good and would only make sense if he told the absolute truth, if she didn’t get him committed for a psychiatric evaluation first. “Look, you take that to your tech and get them to work their magic. If the information is satisfactory, then you call this number,” he dug the number for Elizabeth’s shop out of his pocket and handed her the scrap paper, “and leave a message with the woman who owns the place. Just tell her to tell me that it’s on, got it? That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ll get in touch with you when he’s ready for pick up.” 

Catherine held out her hand to him. “I can live with that deal,” she replied. The moment Danny took her hand this time, she tugged him closer. “But if this is some attempt to double cross us, you’re joining your partner on my list,” she told him, dark eyes narrowing. Then the amicable smile returned to her face and she released his hand, rising to her feet. “It was nice talking to you, Mr. Williams. I hope we’ll be speaking on the same good terms soon.” Taking a pair of sunglasses from her pocket, she slid them on and turned to walk off, leaving Danny still staring at her place on the bench.

“Okay. There wasn’t much subtle behind that threat,” he murmured as he rose from the bench as well, brushing off his pants. If his gut instinct was incorrect, it wouldn’t be ‘book ‘em, Danno’, it would be ‘booked Danno’. He couldn’t afford that, not right now. At least not until the right man was back to take the punishment. It was all about timing. 

Glancing up at the sky, Danny folded his hands together at chest level. “Hey, I know we don’t talk much anymore. Or at all. But if you haven’t permanently written me off yet and I’ve still got a few Hail Marys left in the bank, if you could help me out a little here, I’d greatly appreciate it. Amen.” Unfolding his hands, he quickly crossed himself and then shook his head. Despite his frustrations with religion and faith, some habits died hard.

And yeah, someone having a little faith in him couldn’t hurt.


	12. Williams

Karma had bitten him in the ass hard.

Williams pushed his feet into the floor and pulled his arms away from the side of the chair again, body straining as he prayed that maybe this time, the chain linking the cuffs to the chair would snap. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t happening, but it didn’t stop him from trying. What else was he going to do? He was alone in a dim, windowless room and no amount of shouting or threatening or taunting was going to help. 

With an expulsion of breath, his muscles gave and he fell forward, dangling by the cuffs as he stared at the floor. Frowning, he tilted his head, staring at the drain between his feet until he heard the door open and the scrape of a chair being set down a few feet away. “Why the fuck is this place built like a room that doesn’t exist in Guantanamo Bay?” he demanded irritably, knocking his heel against the cover. It gave a quiet rattle but didn’t otherwise budge. 

“To scare nasty people like you into complying,” Lou Grover stated as he settled down in the chair, arms crossing over his broad chest. The man’s expression remained blank except for the slight arch of an eyebrow as he looked Williams up and down. “It must have killed you to play that part as long as you did. You know, do something right for once. It’s written all over you now that you quit acting. That whole ‘don’t give a shit’ attitude,” he added, waving his hand in a circular motion in indication of Williams’ entire being. “Though once we were looking for it, your acting was goddamn terrible.” 

Williams sat up a little straight, indignation front and center in his expression. “It’s just not in my nature to have a bland personality,” he shot back, his lip curling in a sneer.

Lou huffed out a laugh. “There is nothing about myself or Danny or any of this team that I would ever classify as bland. Not even in the least. In fact, I was the only one that could come in here because your ‘colorful’,” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “personality is making for some bad reactions and I told them, they don’t want to associate that with someone they care about.” He grew quiet, recrossing his arms. “I’m working on it myself.” 

This was starting to turn into more of a heart to heart than an information gathering expedition and Williams was growing uncomfortable with that. He was many things but in touch with his sensitive side was not one of them, nor did he choose to be. That way led to weakness, stupidity. Betrayal. Disappointment. He shifted in the chair and chose to look around the room, anywhere but Grover. “When am I going to get fed? Something something constitutional right to a decent meal, as long as it doesn’t contain pineapple.” He smacked his heel against the drain cover again, making it rattle.

“You really don’t care, do you? You don’t care that it was a man like you that killed Chin’s wife, Malia,” Lou stated softly, leaning forward. Williams knew that trick. Give the faceless person a name, a designation, and they became real, became a cause for guilt or ransom, breaking down shields. “Or that a man like you is the reason Kono and her husband can’t enjoy the first days of their new marriage. Or that a man like you tortured Steve on several occasions. Hell, you beat him yourself.”

Williams shrugged and slumped down in his seat. “It wasn’t all that fun either. He just sat there and did that thousand mile stare, didn’t participate in the discussion. I got so _bored_ with it early on. McGarrett’s usually the creative one when it comes to that. The more blood he draws, the more screams he gets, the happier it is. It’s not my bag but who am I to deny someone what makes them happy?” 

The laugh Lou gave was absolutely humorless. “Someone who does something right because they care, that’s who. What was done to you, Williams?” 

That was an amusing question. There was an assumption there always that something had to be done to him in his early formative years to make him the person he was now. He leaned forward so that he was closer to Lou, meeting his eyes. “What was done to me? I was groomed to run an empire in the tradition of La Cosa Nostra with the fact hanging over my head every day that if I disappointed, I had three siblings who could step into my spot. Of course, Matty turned out to be a blood traitor that Eddie dealt with and he couldn’t wrap his mind around women at the head of the family, so that left me.” 

There was a beat of silence between them, the faint indecision in Lou’s eyes before he spoke again. “Sounds stressful.” 

Williams pouted out his bottom lip thoughtfully. “No, not really. I knew I would be running the family one day and that I would run it my way. It was just a matter of getting there.” The tight lipped smile turned into a full, toothy grin. “Matty never covered his tracks that well.” 

Lou Grover was a smart man. He caught the implication immediately and his expression went dark. “Your own brother.”

“My own brother. My own father eventually. See, the thing about tradition is eventually it becomes outdated and puts you behind the modern crowd. People who cling to the old ways do so because they realize they’re just as outdated as their methods and they’ll ever compete. That was my father in a nutshell. Change the family, you don’t just keep up. You take over,” Williams said softly, leaning back. “That’s what I really admired about Gabriel Waincroft’s style.” 

There it was. The straightening of the back, the recognition in Lou’s eyes. Williams knew enough about Waincroft from mentions of the ongoing conversation, but unfortunately, he’d been discovered before he had a chance to make contact. On the fortunate side, they didn’t know that. That meant he still had a little wiggle room to play. “You son of a b-”

“He was extremely accommodating, you know. You bring a gift of information to establish your alliance and people are willing to listen. He was a little surprised at first and almost put a bullet between my eyes, but after a while and some talking, he came around to my way of thinking,” Williams pushed, straining forward against the cuffs. 

Lou was out of his seat before he finished talking and moving for Williams when the door opened and Steve barked out his name. He stopped and turned to face Steve, broad shoulders heaving in anger as the other man and Kono slowly worked into the room, carrying the full size mirror between them. The pane of glass had shattered at one point, cracks radiating out from a spot near the bottom. The wood around the mirror bore some strange marks and he couldn’t tell for sure in the dim light, but there was a dark spot towards the bottom that looked like blood.

Suddenly, he could remember the feel of his head slamming into the glass, the pieces digging into the side of his face. The wound twinged in remembrance, right before he’d given over to oblivion, later waking up in the hospital. The chair moved, the mirror sat right in front of him, allowing him a reflection to stare at. Hair ruffled, clothes disheveled, he snarled in disgust at his appearance and leaned back with a huff. “What? Did you decide that you’re going to torture me by reminding me I still look better than all of you on my worst days?” he asked.

“You know what? That’s not our Danny. I’m gonna smack him so hard that he’s going to see little cannolis fluttering around his head instead of birds,” Lou stated as he started back for Williams. Steve immediately stepped in front of him, keeping his back to Williams, intentionally not looking at him. Kono’s arm slipped around Lou’s arm. 

“Don’t,” she stated firmly, a look passing between her and Steve. “Lou, come on. Chin and Abby went to get everyone lunch. Let’s leave him alone with his own unpleasant company.” 

Williams tilted in his chair to see her better. “Aww, I love talking to you too, babe.” Kono glared at him before her hand slowly, gracefully came up and her middle finger extended. The frown became a vicious smile. 

“Consider yourself lucky that we don’t get to play,” she replied, then gave Lou’s arm another tug. Steve slipped his hand under Lou’s other arm and the man relaxed, mouth set in a firm line. 

“He’s not worth it,” Steve told him softly, the words just barely reaching Williams’ ears. 

“He sold us out to Waincroft,” Lou snarled at him. “He said so himself. Right before you came in.” 

Steve’s head quickly shook. “No, no he didn’t. Chin did a sweep of his laptop, his phone, our table. He never figured out the logins because Danny is smart. He didn’t make any of them simple, something that Williams could guess. There’s no sign of a digital footprint anywhere. We’re good. He’s trying to screw with you, just like he did to us before.” Still, Steve didn’t look towards him. “Lou, come on.”

Once he heard that information, Lou seemed to relax a little more. If looks could kill, Williams probably still would have been ash, but he at least allowed himself to be pulled from the room, the door latching shut behind them. Again, silence fell around Williams and he slumped back in his chair. 

Though he remained still in his chair, there was movement in the mirror’s reflection. He glanced over his shoulder, finding no one snuck in while he wasn’t paying attention, before facing forward again. 

It wasn’t his reflection. The cracks in the mirror distorted the image’s accuracy but he recognized the back of his head - not _his_ head, but his head nonetheless - and a black jacket, saw the flickering of small flames around. Transfixed, he leaned forward slowly, his lips starting to form a question when he heard the soft crack of a gun that grew in volume like someone stepped on a remote control and the glass shattered outward.

He squeezed his eyes shut and threw himself back in the chair, but the glass shards never hit him. He opened one eye, then the other, realizing that his hands were free and raised at his sides, that he was standing. Surrounding him, a ring of candles flickering and nearby, a woman’s body laid on the ground, head tilted away, blood slowly seeping out onto the floor beneath her.

In front of him, McGarrett stood, the look in his eyes murderous, blood spattered across the side of his face and broken cuffs encircling the wrist holding the gun pointed at his chest. “ _Whoa!_ Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Williams bellowed, backing up and banging into something behind him. Glass crunched under his feet and he turned to see the broken mirror. His fingers reached out to touch a hole in the wood, coming away stained with blood. There was a bullet wedged in there but as he felt under his jacket, there wasn’t a single hole on him that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Suddenly he found himself shoved against the wall, the gun thrust under his chin. “How the hell did you escape that?” McGarrett demanded, face so close to Williams’ that he could have licked his nose if he was feeling in the kinky spirit. Instead, he wrinkled up his nose and tilted his head away. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Where the hell are we? And if you want to keep your job, you will take that goddamn gun out from underneath my chin, McGarrett. Not just your job, but your nuts. You know what I did to Peterson when he wouldn’t comply with my demands,” he snarled in frustration. This was not the homecoming he imagined, nor wanted, especially when he realized damage had to be done for McGarrett to be this pissed. 

McGarrett’s grip loosened just enough to let him slide loose, but his hand quickly darted under his jacket and pulled the gun out of the shoulder holster, pointing both at Williams as he stepped back. At least it was enough to give him a good look around and he froze. He held up his hands, pointer finger rising. “Why does it look like we’re in Harry Potter?” 

The other man’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She said you weren’t mine,” he said quietly. “The witch. She told me that -”

Before he could say another word, the door to the storeroom burst open and Williams was blinded by bright lights, deafened by shouts. They blurred together at first until solidifying into one, demands for him to put his hands up and get down on his knees. For McGarrett to drop his weapons. When he could finally push his eyes open, eyes adjusting to the light, the doorway, along the walls, were covered in bodies in tactical gear, weapons pointed at him and McGarrett. One officer knelt beside the woman on the floor. 

While his mind struggled to catch up, his arms were yanked roughly behind his back for the second time that day, cuffs latched tightly around his wrist as someone began to recite his rights in his ear. He stared blankly ahead as the same was done to McGarrett several feet away as he stared back at Williams, shock in his expression. He managed to tune out enough of the other voices around him to hear what McGarrett was saying. 

“The witch was right. He was all wrong.”


	13. Danny

In the whirlwind mayhem of the last few days, Danny’s focus honed in on his situation and then the destruction of the mafia family around him while finding a way home. As he wandered the streets of an unfamiliar familiar former home, he realized one person had been forgotten in everything. _Grace_. She was the first person mentioned when he woke up in alternate Newark and the reason McGarrett almost didn’t walk out of the office alive when he put her down. In all that time though, he hadn’t seen her once. Considering what would be going down soon, it became an imperative need. 

It didn’t take much leg work to find out where she went to school. True to Williams’ style, she went to the most prestigious, expensive private school in the county. Using some of the money he’d withdrawn from the ATM to create a trail, he grabbed a cab over to the school. The place was unlike anything Danny had seen before when it came to a school. It was more like one of the high society places he’d had to tromp through to reach a crime scene, or that happened to be the crime scene. He remembered the name of the place from back in his school days, when someone made the comment that they would never lower themselves to playing a public school team. They’d jeered back that the school just happened to know how much it sucked and were making excuses.

The woman at the front desk looked up when he opened the door, her expression quickly flickering from a welcoming smile to the quickest flash of fear to a strained smile. “Mr. Williams! How can I help you?” 

“I was thinking about surprising my daughter with lunch,” Danny stated, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. His reputation was threatening enough without bringing body language into it. “Would you mind, uh, calling her down for me? Please,” he quickly added, throwing in a smile of his own. 

With a short nod, she turned towards her computer, fingers flying over the keys. The information she was looking for located, she turned to the phone, dialed a few numbers and spoke softly. After hanging up, she turned back to Danny. “You can have a seat. She’ll be down in a few moments.” 

Danny didn’t know what to expect, but of several scenarios, not one involved Grace coming in the door of the office, giving him a look, and storming out in a whirl of dark hair, too much makeup, and a skirt well beyond her years. He quickly scrambled out of the seat and out the door, his arm slipping under her elbow to pull her to a stop. “Hey, whoa, where are you going? I thought we could go grab some lunch,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “There’s a little place down the way that looks good.” 

Grace turned back to him and yanked her elbow from his grasp. “What do you want?” she demanded and Danny’s breath was taken away by the sheer hatred he saw in his daughter’s eyes. “You always want something when you’re trying to pretend you want to be a father.” His heart squeezed in his chest and he had to huff out a breath as if that would relieve the pressure. 

“Of course I want to be a fath-”

“Since when?” Grace looked towards the office. “Oh, I get it, there’s an audience. You need to look good.” When had she become so sharp tongued? Someone could be eviscerated in a simple conversation with her. That was not the little girl who used to slip loose from him and Rachel during bathtime and run giggling down the hall, not the young teenager who disappeared to a party on Halloween as an act of rebellion even. “No, I am not going to lunch with you, _Danny_.” 

Danny’s hands spread out helplessly. “Gracie, come on, please just talk to me about this-”

Grace crossed her arms over her chest. “Like the time I heard you talking to McGarrett about how I was an accident and a problem?” Danny’s mouth dropped open, stunned speechless. “Yeah, I heard that.” 

Her silence meant she was waiting for him to refute that, to come up with an excuse, to say anything that meant what she’d heard was incorrect - so she could dispute it. “God, Grace. I am so sorry,” he said finally. “I just...I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” 

There was a flicker of something in Grace’s eyes before they became steely again. “Sure you are, Danny,” she replied, her voice quieter. “Go away.” Turning sharply on her heel, she started off down the hall again. Danny was left floudering for something to say, his mind still trying to comprehend the conversation, the terrible job Williams had done as a father to his little girl, who utterly he’d failed her.

“Hey, Grace!” he called, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. When she turned back to look at him, he swallowed hard and added, “Danno loves you.” She frowned, then her nose wrinkled up. 

“Why are you calling yourself Danno?” She didn’t wait for an answer, turning back around and hurrying to disappear around a corner, leaving him with the silent hallway. His face burning red, Danny kept his head down as he passed the office and quickly exited the school, making it down the steps and off the property before he had to sit down, leaning forward and gulping in deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. 

He knew Williams was a bastard. He saw it in the company he kept, the way people reacted to him, the vague insinuation of the things he got up to. But never, _never_ had he loathed the man as much as he did now after the conversation with Grace. His beautiful, smart, intelligent daughter, ignored and so badly treated that she hated him. He balled up his shaking hands and slammed a fist down on the bench slats beside him, the grief quickly turning into a rush of anger. “You’re going down hard, you fucking son of a bitch. I’m going to make sure you suffer, for this as much as everything else,” he muttered.

\---------------

The route he took in getting to Elizabeth’s shop vaguely resembled something out of a Family Circus comic. At first, it was an attempt at cooling down from the righteous fury of earlier in the day, but then it became lost in his thoughts while trying to waste time. Finally, his impatience won out and he was stepping over the threshold into the shop. Elizabeth raised her head from where she stood at the counter, as well as the two women towards the back, huddled together near a bookshelf. He raised a hand self-consciously to the two, then hustled over to the counter. 

“I told you after the shop closed,” Elizabeth murmured quietly, her attention back on the log book in front of her. 

“I couldn’t wait much longer. Maybe you can put me to work until it’s closing time,” he suggested, unsure if it was sarcasm or a genuine offer to help. She took it as the former from the annoyed look she shot him, head tilting and eyes dangerously close to rolling. 

“I understand that you’re used to getting whatever it is you want but this is my shop and my expertise, Mr. Williams, so you can wait.” When he blanched, she smiled coldly. “There are very few people in this town who don’t know who you really are. My family even has a connection. My brother used to work for you.” There was an ominous meaning there that Danny wasn’t sure he wanted to know the further details of. 

“Sorry.” That was probably the only and worst thing he could say, yet it slipped out before he could stop it and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I just, you know, don’t know what else to do, so I thought that I would offer some, ah, free labor.” 

Elizabeth motioned to him. “Give me your hand,” she told him, holding out hers. The request was so unexpected, he put his in hers without thinking, then hissed in pain when she slapped a small green rock in his palm and it started to _burn_. He yanked his hand back, staring accusingly at the rock and then up at her. 

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, shaking out his fingers. “I’m sure whatever it was, I deserved it, but honestly, can’t you think of something better than slapping hot rocks in people’s hands? As far as revenge goes, that’s pretty sad.” He blew on his palm, the skin reddening. 

The entire time he went off, Elizabeth didn’t say a word. Even after he finished, she remained silent. He heard the soft shuffle of feet behind him and the bell ringing over the door as it opened and closed, leaving the two of them in silence. Or more accurately, the soft curses muttered under his breath and her silence. 

“You’re a mirror person,” she finally said, staring at him in wonder. Danny eyed her hand as she reached across the counter, poking him in the cheek.

“ _Hey!_ Maybe you’re the mirror person and I’m the normal world person in mirror land, did you ever think of that?” he replied, swatting at her hand and drawing back. She didn’t seem to take offense to the swat, instead going to the door and locking it, turning the sign to CLOSED. Returning to him, she grabbed his sleeve and tugged him into the backroom. 

“You’re in the wrong world, hence you being the mirror person. If I happened to land in your realm, I would be the mirror person as I am not the right version for that world,” she explained in a rush and pushed him down into a chair. He tracked her over to a desk where she scooped up a pile of papers and returned to him. 

“I found the legend. Several versions over several cultures. What they all agree on is the transfiguration of one side of the personality to the other in the same person. A mirrored effect,” Elizabeth explained, brushing the hair behind her ears. “Danny Williams here is...he is a cold, heartless, unlawful man. You, I’m assuming, are the opposite.”

Danny shrugged. “I’m a cop accused of being overly emotional at times,” he stated, remembering a few partner therapy sessions where that had been a subject of discussion. “Close enough.” 

Elizabeth gave an unladlyike snort at his response. “Different enough, I think you mean.” She pushed a paper into his hands. “This is the ritual I found for shift to work. The runes around are variations of the word ‘mirror’, the circle made to focus on the subject. Given its complexity, it’s relatively easy. In fact, too easy. Any novice would try to perform this and almost likely succeed.” 

He stared down at the paper in his hands, his old sketch and her new one, more defined and detailed. “So we could likely do this now.” 

She nodded. “We could. We can. If you can give me a few minutes to put it together, to paint the runes, I can - oh, and someone called here for you. She said you were good to go?” The dry expression returned. “Asking me to research is one thing, but using my shop as a call service?” 

Danny shrugged, trying his best to look innocent. “I have a few loose ends to tie up here before I go back home. Plans that include taking out two major players of the Williams family.” As if that would help his case. Elizabeth, however, was lost in her own thoughts and shoved the scrap in his hands with a hastily scribbled number. Sliding past her, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. 

“Williams?” No ‘hello’, no confirmation of who the caller was talking to, just a short response. At least Catherine got right to the point.

“You said we’re good to go, I’m going to give you what I promised.” It felt wrong almost, promising to turn the man who was his best friend in another world over, but McGarrett wasn’t him. He was so far from the man he loved. That and the conversation he’d had with Grace earlier, remembering what McGarrett said about her, steeled his resolve. “There’s just one addendum. Immunity for Rachel Edwards and my - Grace. Grace Williams.”

Catherine remained silent on the end of the line. “Grace has no place in this case,” she replied finally, “but Rachel Edwards? She - “ 

“Is Grace’s mother and she needs one person in her life, Agent Rollins. I’m not asking much here. I am gift wrapping Steve McGarrett for you and providing you with information to help you take this family down with NPD’s help. I am giving this to you _tonight_ ,” he added, watching Elizabeth moving around from shelf to shelf. 

He could practically feel the tension on the other end. When she answered, it was a terse, “fine. I’ll make it work.”

His shoulders slumped slightly in relief. “All right. Have your people ready to go. I’ll send you an address and a time in a short while.” He didn’t give her time to respond, hanging up in what he hoped was an action of finality. There was a short amount of time to make this work and he couldn’t waste it on disagreements.

Passing Elizabeth, he stopped in the doorway. “I will be back in a few hours. Get it ready to go.” She didn’t look at him. Hell, he was pretty sure that she shooed him away.

\-----------------

A few hours later, he was on the ride back to the shop, sunk down in the backseat of a cab with his face buried in his hands. Eyes closed, he could see the betrayed look on McGarrett’s face as their clandestine meeting turned out to be anything but. Retrieving his phone from the place where he left it, he’d headed home to find his bed empty. The whole reason for leaving a misleading trail around town had been to keep McGarrett off his tail in case he escaped, but he still sighed at the handcuffs dangling off his bedpost, unlocked. Finding his number, he’d called him and asked him to meet him at an abandoned warehouse he remembered from his beat cop days. A text went to Catherine next, giving her the heads up.

McGarrett came. Of course he came. Despite the screwed up nature of their relationship, McGarrett and Williams seemed utterly loyal to each other. He’d never reached Danny, the tactical team hurrying in before he could get in reach. He tried though, going through at least four of the armed tactical team before a stun gun took him down. A few minutes later, he hurled threats at Danny that made his blood run cold and pray to a god he was on difficult terms with that witchcraft would be his saving grace. It was a strange place to be. 

Once he was tucked away, Danny met with NPD. In possession of the information from the flash drive, a team sifting through back at the precinct, they were more than willing to work with him on collaring Williams. The funny thing about gift wrapping a case of that size, they didn’t question that Williams had an unknown twin brother too deeply. Instead, they allowed him to lay out the plan. Williams would be meeting him in the backroom of the shop, thinking they were alone. When Danny said the word into the comm they provided, they’d burst in and grab the other piece of the puzzle. 

The tension in his shoulders remained tight as he realized that he was hanging the last part of his plan on magic. Even with the situation he’d been in the last few days, he still found it hard to wrap his mind around the fact that it all came down to a spell, a mirror, and the hope that he wasn’t going to look like a crazy idiot. That he would be going home to where his life made sense. Mostly. 

The slow roll to a stop jostled him out of his thoughts and he leaned forward to pay the cabbie, telling him to keep the change. His steps were quick as he slid in the side door, moving down the dark hallway to the backroom where he’d left Elizabeth. The room was dark, bathed in candlelight surrounding the old fashioned mirror standing in the middle, the runes painted along the stained wood. 

Danny stepped into the middle, squinting into the darkness. “Elizabeth?” he called. This was a horrible time for her to be taking a bathroom or smoke break. “Hey, can we get a move on? I would really like to get home.” 

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, he focused in on something laying on the floor a few feet away. A body. “Son of a bi-” He started to move towards it when he heard a click and McGarrett moved between him and it. The closer he stepped, the more details he could make out. The shadows cast by the flames danced eerily in his eyes and a dark splatter up the side of his face, it could only be blood. Danny’s breath stopped in his chest and he slowly raised his hands, stepping back.

“You know who Rollins passed me over to while you made nice with the police, Williams?” he asked quietly, oddly calm for the fury radiating off him. “My mother. The woman who has been pursuing me for the last few years, who wanted to bring me to justice for my ‘crimes’ against this country. The one person you said that you never would.” 

For the first time, Danny found himself honestly terrified of McGarrett. He’d always known that Steve, and McGarrett, were capable of very deadly things, but this was the only time that it had ever been directed at him. “You’re a murderer, McGarrett. You kill for fun. You can’t be allowed to run around free anymore.” 

“And you? You should be allowed? You’re as much a sick, twisted murderer as I am, D. You were right there, enjoying it with me. Each time, it got you hot and bothered and begging for more,” McGarrett snarled, thrusting the gun at him. “Not anymore. Never again.” 

Danny backed up against the mirror. “You know what? You’re right, babe,” he snapped back, finding his courage. “Not anymore, never again, because you, you psychopathic, sad excuse for a human being, will go down with me. You may have escaped once tonight, but I don’t think they’ll make the same mistake twice. _Mirror, mirror!_ ” he bellowed, loud enough for the wire in his shirt to pick up clearly. 

Nothing happened. He wasn’t sure what he expected, a swirl of lights, falling backwards into his own world again, something other than just standing there, McGarrett pointing a gun at him, utter silence meeting his cue for the police to enter. They weren’t in position, the spell didn’t work, Elizabeth was possibly dead, and he was well and truly fucked. 

McGarrett frowned at him in confusion, then shook his head. “Go to hell, Williams,” he said softly. With the squeeze of a finger, the gun went off and Danny bounced off the mirror pane, the wind knocked from his lungs. The sound of glass breaking overwhelmed everything else. He started to fall forward and suddenly jerked to a halt.

His eyes opened and he stared at the drain on the floor. The dim blue lighting of the room tickled familiarity at the back of his mind and he struggled to figure out why. He couldn’t draw in a full breath and as he looked down, a dark stain spread through the light fabric of his shirt. _I was wearing dark blue,_ he thought idly, trying to touch the spot, but his wrists were restrained behind him. He couldn’t sit back, his body hanging heavily forward by his arms. On the floor in front of him, pieces of glass glittered. 

“Home.” The word was barely a whisper as it passed his lips and he laughed, more a wheeze than anything else. The edges of his vision began to dim and his arms strained, but he couldn’t do anything about that. It would all be over soon enough and he could relax finally. 

Suddenly there were hands on his face, lifting his head up. He met blue eyes, wide in horror and concern. Blue eyes of someone he loved, someone who cared. “It’s you,” he said, fighting to draw in the breath to speak. “I did it.” That one look was the reassurance that he needed to let go. He stopped fighting and let his eyes close, barely aware of Steve shouting his name somewhere far in the distance.


	14. Danny

In the darkness of the living room, Danny paced back and forth, fingers working through his wild blond hair. _Seven, eight, nine, turn._ He executed a turn that would make a military cadet envious and paced back the other way. It took a turn or two to get the lay out of his living room for pacing again, but a shin crack on the coffee table later, he had it down to a science as he went about soothing his strung out nerves. 

The insomnia was bad enough before, but now he could barely close his eyes without slipping into a place where the faces he loved most wanted revenge on him. Not even the prescription they’d given him after his lengthy stay in the hospital helped, except to make him unable to fight his way out of the dream. He scrubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, executing another turn. 

“Hey, Dann _ow_!” The hand was barely on his shoulder when Danny’s elbow shot back, colliding with the stomach of his attacker. His chest twinged painfully, the healing gunshot wound still not entirely there for him to be making such quick motions. Danny spun around still, one arm raised to deliver another blow, fingers curling into a fist so tight that his knuckles started to go white. 

Steve backed up from him, slightly bent over and holding up a hand. “Danny, it’s me. It’s Steve,” he said quickly. “Not McGarrett, Steve.” In an effort to separate the mirror world from their own, they’d agreed that anything mirror was referred to by a different name, usually a last name. It was still awkward, but it was a step towards separating that hellhole and his home, something that was harder than he’d imagined it would be.

Danny lowered his fist and took a step back, slumping down on the coffee table with his hand pressed against the healing wound. Taking slow breaths and closing his eyes, he felt his heart rate slowly return to normal and the adrenaline ebb off, his hands beginning to shake in the aftermath. He worked them together, hoping to hide them from Steve, but he knew that he was giving his eyesight too much credit in the darkness. Not even Steve was that good.

The SEAL slowly sat down next to him, elbows resting on knees, hands clasped before him. It was then that Danny realized why his pacing was off. This wasn’t his living room. Eric was watching his house for him while he stayed in Steve’s guest room, by Steve’s stubborn insistence, after being release from the hospital. In the whirl of post-nightmare inability to separate reality and dream, his mind failed to offer up that simple fact. 

“What was it tonight?” Steve asked softly. His knee bumped against Danny, a soothing gesture that he welcomed immensely. Without thinking, he reached over, hand resting on his leg just below where his elbow perched. Danny remained silent but Steve didn’t press, patient as always. 

“It was Columbia,” Danny finally answered, his voice hoarse as he fought off the swell of emotion, just as fierce as the moment he woke up upstairs. “The basement. Except...except there was no oil barrel and I was pointing the gun at Matty’s head.” He swallowed hard, blinking as his vision started to blur with welling tears. He hated it so much. Yes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, guilty as charged, but he was better at keeping himself together than this. Daniel Anthony Williams did not fall apart when he needed to be the strength, the support in the family. He kept his head up, his shoulder strong for the leaning, a solid voice. 

Steve shifted beside him, tentatively sliding an arm around his partner’s shoulders. When Danny didn’t lash out again, the arm hooked around him and pulled him in tight to Steve’s chest. There was nothing that Danny wanted more than the comfort of someone he loved and his arms slipped around his waist quickly, laying his head against Steve’s chest. He didn’t do this usually but right then, with everything so very fucked up in his head, he didn’t care. He _needed_ something solid to hold onto when he felt like he was drowning in the compounding situations in his life. 

“I might as well have pulled the trigger. I didn’t find him in time. I didn’t save my little brother when I was one of the few people he always should have been able to count on to have his back. I let him run when I should have done _something_ and in another reality...” His voice hitched and a shudder ran down his back. “In another reality, I was the one that got him killed.” 

He felt the arm pull tighter around him and then Steve’s other hand cradled the back of his head, holding him close. “Matt was an adult, Danny. I know you don’t want to hear that but you tried everything to help him and he turned his back. It wasn’t you that pulled the trigger, that gave him to the wolves. In this reality, you tried to save him. In the other reality, that wasn’t you.” Steve drew in a breath. “Remember how you told me everything felt backwards there? Williams took Matt out of his way there, Danny. Which meant that here, you did everything you could.” 

The logic was easy enough to follow and yet that soft voice in the back of his mind snorted at Steve’s soothing words, reminding Danny that there was always more he could have done. That he’d been so bitter at his brother rejecting his help, putting him in the position he had, that he hadn’t worked to bring him home as hard as he could have. _Shut the hell up for once in my life_ , Danny thought at the anxiety lurking around the edges. Just once, he wanted to be able to heal, to cope without being set several steps back because the worst case scenario worked up by his brain overrode common sense, logic, rational thought. 

“You are a good man, Danny. You love your daughter, you love your son, you’re there when your family and team need you.” Steve hesitated as if he wanted to add something else, but whatever it was, he let it go. Danny, however, wasn’t so willing.

He drew away from Steve, rising to his feet, hands clasped together in front of his mouth as his bare feet scuffed against the carpet. “I know that you are the exact opposite of McGarrett, that Chin Ho will never be Kelly, that Kalakaua can’t hold a candle to Kono,” he said, dropping his hands to tug the unbuttoned flannel shirt tighter around him. “None of those people are the ones that I love and care about here, but...” Danny stared at his feet, knowing that he had to ask eventually. Say _something_. “While I was there, McGarrett kept trying to get in my pants and was all too receptive when I baited him with making out to handcuff him to the bed.” With the dim light from the moon outside, he saw Steve’s eyebrows raise slightly, his lips pressed into a firm line. “That world, where everything was opposite, I - I was receptive to it, if it had been you, not McGarrett, because I - “ He threw out his hands, unable to find the words to articulate this very precarious navigation of his feelings and what could possibly make or break their partnership and friendship. “I love you.” 

Steve had gone still, so very still, and Danny’s heart began to race again. He’d screwed it, he’d mucked it up. Now Steve would let him return home tomorrow like he’d been asking all along, possibly even toss him out on his ass tonight. No more partners, no more friends, one of the lifelines on this island gone because he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He’d been vulnerable and weak and -

“They didn’t love each other.” Steve’s voice cut through the anxious rambling in Danny’s mind, bringing it to an abrupt halt. “Williams tried to get into my pants too, but it was just sex for him. Maybe they were a little more open to the idea but the emotion wasn’t there. It makes sense, Danny. Turn it around and - “

“We have the emotion.” He picked up on Steve’s line of reasoning immediately, breathing shallow as he followed along. “We love each other too much and thought we might ruin what we have, so we thought we were lucky to have what we did.” 

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “Because,” his voice halted again as he shifted, “because I love you too.” If someone didn’t know Steve McGarrett better, they might have taken the hesitation the wrong way, but after six years together, Danny knew how hard it was for the emotionally stunted SEAL to do what he just did. Sure, he’d gotten better, but when it came to what could destroy his heart, it was an op that ranked among the toughest in his years of service.

He was crossing back to him as Steve rose to his feet, hands sliding around the other man’s neck to pull him down just enough for Danny’s lips to meet his. Still he had to rise onto his toes, Steve’s hands settling on his hips to pull him closer.

And there it was, everything that he’d missed when he kissed McGarrett. Warmth flooded his body from blond hair to his toes, his heartbeat a steady cadence in his chest, unlike the nervous, terrified flutter before. Danny ran his thumb across the light stubble on Steve’s jaw as he deepened the kiss, needing more of the taste of him. The anxious voice disappeared under a rushing noise that sounded so much like the ocean, as much as home to the man he loved as the house they stood in. It fit as Danny hungrily parted his lips for more, breathing in the scent of soap and ocean and everything that was just so Steve. 

When his fingers started to tug upwards on Steve’s shirt, Steve quickly grabbed his hands. “Whoa, hey, not tonight, babe,” he said softly. “This - this is one thing but you’ve had a bad night. It feels too much like taking advantage of your emotional state for me,” he added, brushing a thumb along the back of Danny’s neck, just below his hair, sending shivers down his spine. “Now that we know, we can save that for when we can both really enjoy it, okay?” 

Reluctantly, Danny nodded and gently pulled away from Steve. “Uh, yeah, of course. That’s a smart idea. I should, uh...bed. Head to bed, as should you because the 5 am swim comes entirely too soon.” Despite his disappointment, he smiled, knowing they’d gone farther than he’d ever expected them too. “So can I get a goodnight kiss before I head to my room?” 

Steve’s head tilted and he stepped forward to slide an arm around Danny’s waist. “Who said you had to go back to your room? I have a perfectly good bed up there for two and I’ve heard that I give excellent big spoon.” He grinned down at Danny, who wrinkled up his nose.

“What if I want to big spoon? Maybe I don’t know how to small spoon. Implying that I would is absolutely sizest and I won’t stand for it, Steven. Not in the least.” Danny’s arms crossed over his chest and his chin rose, trying his damnedest to look defiant. Instead, all it took was one look up at Steve “Puppy Eyes” McGarrett and he felt his resolve wither like his mother’s garden in winter. “Fine, I’ll small spoon, you giant animal,” he groused. 

All the time they bickered back and forth, they climbed the stairs towards the bedroom where Steve knew all along that he would be the big spoon and that Danny knew he would be the small spoon and the argument was just what they did and when they did, it meant that maybe everything wasn’t all right in their world, but that it could get there someday if they worked at it. 

And as Danny lay with his back pressed to Steve, his partner - no, something much more now, something much more and still his best friend - the shadows creeping forward from the recesses of his mind to haunt his dreams didn’t seem as daunting. They would still come and they would still hurt, still make the nights rough, but at least he knew now that he wasn’t fighting them alone. 

In the morning, he would wake up, he’d clip his badge and gun to his belt, and he’d walk into headquarters with his head held high because there was no place he belonged more, no place that felt more right, than working with the best damn team in the world, each with their own skills to bring to it, including himself. As he started to drift off, Danny mumbled to himself, “I want to be good at what I do, be reminded that I’m good.” 

He felt Steve shift behind him, not entirely asleep. “That was never in question, babe,” he said, his words slightly muffled by a yawn in the middle. “Never for a moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took time to read this, who left kudos and comments. I appreciate it very much! 
> 
> While this is the end of this story, it's possible that it's not an ending overall. As long as there's still magic in the world and McGarrett and Williams plotting, there's more to tell.


End file.
